


In all the AUs there was glorious amounts of PWP

by PinkGloom



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 5+1, AUs, Anal, Band camp, Blowjobs, Cheesy Romance Novel, Coffee Shop, Desert Island, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Earl AU, Greaserlock, Hair Kink, Lots of Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Outside Sex, PWP, Riding Crop, Seriously I used the word 'rod', Spanking, Strength Kink, Teenlock, Underage - Freeform, Vamplock and WereJohn, Voice Kink, Voyeurism, Wing!lock, all this is is an excuse for me to practice my sex writing skills, handjobs, library handjob, lots of fucking, maybe some, militarykink, shower, slight non-con, stairway sex, strip&lapdance, top!John, top!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-08 00:12:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 43,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGloom/pseuds/PinkGloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are mostly going to be AU PWP. Originally, they started as one-parters but most are either two or three now. However, they can all be read separately. In addition, each chapter has the AU in the title for easy look-up.<br/>I will gladly take into consideration all suggestions as long as it is Sherlock/John. Some stories may feature them from my already created AUs but don't worry about needing to read the other stories.</p><p>ATTENTION: Although this is marked as a WIP it is technically complete as all chapters are meant to be stand alone. (Well, mostly)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take me GREASER AU

**Author's Note:**

> AU Greaserlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Handjob

“Sherlock.” The word released from John’s lungs like a prayer.  

The lanky teenager had pinned him against a brick wall. John used the library books he was carrying as a barrier. It denied the greaser the last few inches he needed to be flush against John.  

John swallowed hard and looked up at Sherlock over the top of his coke bottle glasses. He still couldn’t understand why he had elicited such reactions from Sherlock. After they had accidentally bumped into each other in the hallway one school afternoon, the greaser had pestered the nerd with a growing force.  

Sherlock leaned in. His curls brushed against John’s temple. “Do you really want me to stop, John?” Sherlock dropped his tone at John’s name and made it sound like a prayer and incredibly filthy thing at the same time. John leaned harder against the wall, his legs having turned to jelly. John dropped the books he had been using as a makeshift shield. 

Taking the opportunity presented before him, Sherlock angled his left thigh so that it pressed up against John’s crotch. The rough material of the jeans sent a jolt up John. “Well, do you?” Sherlock breathed into John’s ear, tickling the small hairs and making the smaller boy shiver.  

“Oh, god. No.” It almost sounded as if he was protesting, however the tone of John’s words spoke another truth. It was _Oh, god. No, please don’t stop._ Having fought it for almost three months, John Watson could no longer contain himself. If this impossibly gorgeous, insufferable man wanted the nerd of the school than so be it.  

John pushed aside the fact that Sherlock would ignore him after he had finally conquered him. John snaked his hands up and pressed them into the leather jacket that Sherlock was wearing. It smelled like cigarette smoke, chemicals, and something else that John couldn’t place. The foreign feel of the fabric sent John’s hair on end. It help tip him even farther towards the edge.  

Sherlock barely moved his face away from John and instead exhaled on John’s cheek as he moved his head down to the blonde’s mouth. The first kiss was surprisingly gentle. Sherlock placed his chap lips on John’s and pressed down with only the tiniest bit of pressure. When John didn’t pull away, Sherlock finally dived in with the greed and lust he had been suppressing for months.  

John had little experience in kissing and instead allowed for his mouth to follow the lead of the much more talented one. John tilted his back and opened his mouth wider to the assault. Sherlock’s tongue darted in and explored its new surroundings. The heat of Sherlock’s mouth and tongue danced on John’s skin and he pulled the greaser in tighter.  

Sherlock’s hands were crushing into John’s hips. They stayed still for only a moment and were soon pulling at John’s sweater vest and then at the collared shirt underneath it. Without warning, fingers were glazing over the flesh of John’s sides and he let out a gasp onto Sherlock’s mouth. 

Sherlock’s lips curled up and he continued his wanderings with his tongue and hands. Hips were not enough to saturate Sherlock and his hands began to travel down south. John reveled in the way Sherlock was taking control. Tongues and lips clashed and the blood in John’s veins begin to boil. 

The erection that was pressed up against John’s left leg was answer enough to how much Sherlock was enjoying his new found freedom. John knew that his own answering erection was rubbing itself up and down on Sherlock’s thigh. Despite his pleas for his body to stop he continued to rut up against the other boy.  

Another groan escaped John’s lips and Sherlock returned to his journey southward with renewed fervor. John clung to the taller boy desperately as his right hand final found its destination. Sherlock rubbed his open palm over the erection in John’s polyester trousers.  

“John.” 

Sherlock’s voice was oddly strained and John found that it gave him an odd thrill. _Can I really bring this impossibly gorgeous man to such a state?_ All other thoughts were lost as Sherlock unbuttoned the first barrier on John’s trousers. “Sherlock.” He didn’t know how far the other man wanted to take the encounter. John tried to not think if there would be a repeat of events.  

“I need to see you come, John.”  

The way the stupid berk kept repeating his name in a voice that sounded so desperate with need almost made John come on the spot. Instead of reply to Sherlock, John chose to thrust his erection harder onto the taller man’s hand. Sherlock snarled his approvable. 

Sherlock dipped his head down and began to suck on John’s neck. With a surprising skill, Sherlock got John’s erect cock out of his trousers with practically one fluid moment. John clutched his fingers harder around the material of Sherlock’s leather jacket.  

“Oh, god. Sherlock.” John’s words was distorted by his panting and the fact that his face was pressed up against the greaser’s shoulder. John tried to convey more but his words were lost in his throat as Sherlock’s hand began to move.  

John’s body was liquid fire and it all radiated to the spot where Sherlock’s skilled hand was rubbing up and down against John’s freed cock. It was a gentle tugging at first. John could feel Sherlock’s hand experimenting with him, trying to understand what made the smaller man moan his name in unintelligible syllables.  

John tried to stop the forward thrusting action of his body. It was almost physically painful, stopping himself from pounding into the firm hand that was around his cock. Sherlock dropped his lips from John’s neck and placed his forehead on John’s shoulder.  

“Don’t fight it.” Sherlock purred the words. “Let your body move the way it wants to, John.” As if to prove his point, Sherlock rubbed his thumb over the top of John’s erection. It slipped through the pre-cum that had collected there. John finally allowed his hips to thrust forward with abandonment. John licked his lips and bit down.  

Sweat was gleaming on John’s forehead and it glistened on Sherlock’s jacket. John grunted as he rutted into Sherlock’s hand. Sherlock whispered encouragement onto the blonde’s shoulder and John bit back a groan when he finally realized what the gorgeous man before him was doing.  

“You’re watching me, aren’t you?” John panted. 

“I’m watching _us._ It’s so fucking hot. You have no idea how this looks. Stop holding back. Let me watch you fall apart.” Sherlock’s words were muffled against the fabric of John’s sweater vest but he caught enough to understand what the greaser was asking of him. A pleased voice in John’s head told him that Sherlock was _begging_ for it.  

John’s heels lifted off the ground as he thrust harder. His lips parted and he started to panted through his mouth. A flush patched John’s cheeks and the muscles in his abdomen began to clinch. It was a glorious peak and John was ready to fall over it. 

“I’m going to...” Too late John realized the position he had put himself in. With another lightning fast movement, Sherlock’s mouth was on John’s cock. With the plushness of those lips encompassing his erection, John came. He clawed at Sherlock’s hair and gasped out his release.  

After he had gotten every last drop and had licked up once on John’s prick, Sherlock straightened himself. His hair was even more disheveled than it had been before and John thought he looked gloriously fucked. Sherlock’s pupils were just as blown as John’s.  

The smaller man let his body go slack and he leaned up against the school wall, after having arched away from it during his orgasm. John didn’t what to say so he waited for Sherlock to break the silence. 

“Would you like to see the experiment I’m working on?” 

John smiled. “Naturally.” Only Sherlock could get away with being one of the ‘bad boys’ and also the science fair winner. 


	2. One time at band camp BANDCAMP AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One word: Nipples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care that there aren't violins at band camp. Its PWP- indulge me.

After his dip in the lake, John Watson stretched out on the towel laying on the shore. He had planned to dry off but decided to let the sun do the work for him. All the other campers were at a mandatory function in the mess hall and he had managed to escape. It was too hot to sit in an unconditioned room with a couple hundred other teenagers.

Before John could doze off, a slight motion caught the corner of his eye. Sitting up, he squinted towards the forest.  _Maybe I'm not the only one who decided to ditch._ John stood up, intent on meeting his partner in crime.

He tentatively made his way into the woods, not wanting to go to far, lest a pinecone and his foot have an unhappy meeting. With a flash of limbs, John was pinned to a nearby tree. John spluttered out some curses before lips collided with his. Whomever it was, they were intent on having John use his mouth for actions other than talking.

John fought for a moment. His eyes blinked open and he was greeted with a familiar mop of midnight curls. John laughed against Sherlock's assaulting mouth. Sherlock pulled away and pursed his lips. "I can't believe you left me there, John. What about 'never leave a man behind'?"

John giggled. "What? I thought it was 'every man for himself'? Besides, you got away didn't you?" John bumped his nose up against Sherlock's cheek. The annoyed look changed to a mischievous smile.

"Well, John. Here we are." Sherlock breathed.

"Here we are." John repeated. His body was beginning to respond to the violin player pressed up against him. Licking his lips, Sherlock followed the skillful tongue back to into John's mouth.

"You know you tempt me in the most obvious ways." Sherlock bent down for another kiss. Sherlock was in his uniform, but John was only in his swim trunks and Sherlock took full advantage of the clarinet player's state of undress.

He moved one of his hands, that had been trapping the smaller boy to the tree, and placed it on John's chest. It was an innocent gesture at first. He had other plans. Sherlock's fingers began to lazily stroke John's right side. Goosebumps strung up under Sherlock's fingertips.

John hummed in appreciation. To show his approval, John started to suck on Sherlock's tongue. Encouraged, the taller boy brushed two fingers over John's nipple. Sherlock started to roll his fingertips over John's rosy nub. The taller boy could feel the heat rising off of John's body. Sherlock brought his thumb up and began to tug at John.

John bit down on Sherlock's lower lip. Bringing his arms up, John let his hands brush lazily and then with more pressure on Sherlock's hip bones.

John rubbed up against Sherlock. When this wasn't enough, his hips started to grind into the other boy's. It caused John's wet swim trunks to form patched of damp spots on Sherlock's uniform. "People will talk." Sherlock smirked.

John answered with, "They do little else." At the snarky reply, Sherlock bent his head down to attach his lips to another part of John's anatomy. John's hands snaked into Sherlock's hair as the mess of curls bent down to the nipple that he had been paying so much attention to earlier with his fingers.

Sherlock flicked his tongue over John's perk nipple. The blonde's fingers combed through the dark locks of the other boy. Sherlock's lips caressed back and forth on the blonde's skin. John groaned and threw his head back, rolling it to the side.

Sherlock moved his lips back and brushed his teeth against John. In the back of his head, John wondered how raw his back was going to be after being pressed up against the rough bark of the tree. It was quickly pushed away as Sherlock's hand began to work its way around the rim of John's swim trunks.

"Maybe we should continue with this else where?" John mumbled out.

"I have it on good account that the dorms are unoccupied at the moment." Sherlock brought his tongue out to gently flick over the tip of John's nipple. "You can show me how you've improved your skills at the clarinet.

John's moaned his agreement.


	3. Black, two sugars COFFEE SHOP AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keyword: Masturbation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coffee Shop AU

Sherlock jabbed the ON button on the side of his coffee maker harder than necessary. He had been down to the local coffee shop, only to find that his favorite barista had decided to take the day off. 

 

The morons at the coffee shop had offered to make a cup of coffee for him instead. Sherlock had just sighed in disgust and walked out. All the other baristas thought Sherlock was a diva about how his coffee was made...really it was just a ruse to see John Watson without getting too many questions asked about why he only showed up when John was working. 

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the coffee maker and walked his way over to the sofa. With a dramatic flare, he threw his body down upon it and huffed. He threw his bent arm over his eyes and waited for the coffee to brew. 

 

Stretching his body full length, he tried to think of the corpse waiting for him at the morgue, but his body had other plans. The smell of coffee reached his nose and his brain flooded with thoughts of John. _John wearing that blue apron. John smiling as he handed Sherlock his coffee. Their fingers brushing lightly. That damn cologne John had started to wear lately..._

 

Sherlock sighed as he felt a twitching in his pajama pants. He was going to ignore it. He really was...but there were still a few more minutes till the coffee was done and he had been rushed through his shower that morning, so Sherlock allowed himself to indulge. 

 

_John’s hair shone off the early morning sun. He licked his lips and smirked._

 

Sherlock touched his growing erection over his silk pajamas. He rubbed his palm over it and sighed in satisfaction. Sherlock bit down on his lip and let his mind wander further. 

 

_John continued to smile as he untied the knot on his apron. The only piece of clothing the barista was wearing. The top fell down and raveled a well sculpted chest. There were a few hairs- curly and blonde._

 

Sherlock worked his hand under his pajamas bottoms. He sighed with contentment as skin touched skin. He tugged. Sherlock’s cock became erect and surged bigger under his skilled hand. He gently stroked up and down; just enjoying the feel of it. The warmth was familiar and Sherlock rubbed his thumb over his tip. 

 

_The blonde gave him a mischievous smile. John brought his hand up and gestured Sherlock over with his index finger. Sherlock went willingly. His hands wrapped around the smaller man. Sherlock’s mouth found John’s neck and began to kiss him open mouthed. Sherlock’s tongue made lazy patterns on John’s neck and the soft spot where neck became shoulder. His hands found the remaining knot on John’s apron and tugged it loose._

 

Pre-cum covered Sherlock’s thumb and he brought the slickness down to the rest of his cock. He started a slow but hard motion pumping motion, wrapping his fingers around himself. Sherlock thrust up and tried to image what noises John would make if it was John’s cock in his hands instead. 

 

_John’s fingers wrapped around his own cock. Sherlock let out a satisfied sound as he felt John’s hand rubbing up against his erection as the blond man started to get himself off. John’s body thrust up and Sherlock’s hands went down to cup John’s ass._

 

Sherlock took pleasure in trying to calculate what John’s body would feel like from previous information. He had seen the man with clothed; how difficult could it be to image them gone? Sherlock’s thumb brushed up against his slit. He bucked his hips up harder. 

 

_John’s body frantically rubbed up against his. Sherlock held him up. Sherlock’s mouth was leaving small bruises all over John’s creamy skin. Sherlock licked at the bit marks he had left on John’s shoulder. With a spark of recklessness, one of Sherlock’s fingers worked its way between John’s cheeks._

 

Although Sherlock had fantasied about John before he had never allowed himself to take it too far. He needed to still be able to look the barista in the eye without blushing. There was something different his time. Sherlock’s hadn’t gotten his fix of John and now his body demanded compensation. So Sherlock didn’t fight back as the Sherlock in his mind began to rub John in a way he had never before. His breathing got deeper and a tightness started to build in Sherlock’s abdomen. A familiar warmth spreading out over him. 

 

_Sherlock’s finger found its destination. John let out a pleased sound and ground his hips in harder. His finger applied pressure on John’s tight hole. John let out a small cry. The pace on John’s cock picked up and Sherlock knew John was losing control fast. His finger danced his way only slightly into John. Sherlock bit down on the tender skin under John’s jaw. John had exposed more of his skin by throwing his head back and Sherlock was happy to oblige._

 

Sherlock tried to slow his hand. The pressure was building too quickly and his body refused to let him step away from the climax he had brought himself too. Sherlock’s mind flashed over a thousand scenario at once. His mind overloaded on images of John  kissing him, John with his hands all over him, John’s body giving in and Sherlock doing whatever he pleased with it. 

 

The pressure rushed forward and crashed over Sherlock. He gasped out John’s name as he orgasmed into his cupped hand. His hips thrust up one last time and Sherlock felt hot come covering his hand. Sherlock bit down on his lip, holding in a satisfied moan. 

 

The timer on the coffee pot chimed. Sherlock sighed. 

 

As Sherlock got up to wipe his hand and pour his coffee, he decided it was time to ask John out. If this was what missing John one day was like, then Sherlock couldn’t imagine what he would do if John mysteriously quit his job. Although Sherlock could track him, he didn’t feel like being labelled as a stalker. 

 


	4. Bite me! Vamplock & WereJohn AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has vampire Sherlock and Werewolf John. It is also top John with Sherlock having a strengthkink. 
> 
> Some more plot than the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from: Savvybby. 
> 
> Please send me your PWP prompts :D

Sherlock knew he had been foolish as soon as he walked through the door. He accepted it with a quiet grace and allowed them to ‘rough’ him up. An hour had passed before Sherlock started to worry. He had made an assumption and it was turning out to not work in his favor. 

 

Sherlock’s fears dissipated at the howling in the distance. He smirked. However, the cheeky expression was quickly replaced with dread. John wasn’t going to be happy at all. Sherlock turned his head away just in time to avoid the shattering glass from the window. 

 

It was a blur of frenzied activity. Sherlock managed to catch some movement; enough to know that it was who he assumed it to be. He traced the shadow of the intruder as it danced around the room in a flurry of fists and legs. The blood began to pump harder through Sherlock as another capturer smashed against the wall. They made a sickening thud. With another sweep of John Watson’s hand, man number two crashed into a chair, shattering to pieces under him. 

 

It wasn’t a full moon. If it was, the captures won’t have left the room alive. Luckily for them, it was a three-quarters full moon which shone in through the broken window frame and highlighted the graceful body of the doctor, solider and werewolf that was Sherlock’s partner. The silent power of the man rippled and extended from his biceps to his digitorum- uncoiling itself and into the ‘bad’ guys. 

 

John’s white shirt was smattered with crimson blood before the fight was won. When the last capture fell, John turned to Sherlock heaving with he exertion from beating up the three men. Sherlock tried to focus on the words of anger that John was directing at him. All Sherlock could see in his hazy vision was John bending down and untying him. It was such a different action from the violence had had just visited on the other men. Sherlock shivered. The ropes fell from him and they made their way out into the streets. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Sherlock analyzed every word, every gesture as he and John had shared before as they made their way back to the flat. Despite it being London, they moved their way in the shadows undetected. Silence and stealth guided them as they weaved through the back unlit alleys.  

 

The front door shut to their flat and Sherlock walked over to the window. He expected John to continue with his torrent of motherly griping. Sherlock hadn’t been expecting a body to pin him suddenly against the wall. 

 

“What were you thinking? I don’t care if you’re vampire now! I thought we agreed to discuss the cases before doing anything rash?” John’s tone was soft. The rage in it was easy to hear. Sherlock gulped. He pushed his body against John’s in an attempted to remove his back from the wall. 

 

John growled. Sherlock’s arms had been crossed against his chest. John grabbed the taller man’s arms and threw them up above Sherlock’s head. The detective pursed his lips and struggled to loosen his wrists from John’s grasp. Sherlock tried to focus on his annoyance and not the pulse that was beginning to roar in his ears. 

 

First Sherlock pushed with arms. Then his shoulders. Soon his whole body was struggling to loosen the hand that had Sherlock’s hands crossed over his head in a vice. His heart began to thump harder in his chest. Sherlock’s cheeks flushed with exertion and a rising lust moving in his veins. 

 

“Fine, John. You’ve made your point. My sincerest apologizes.” Sherlock wiggled, trying to loosen John’s grip. John didn’t move a muscle. “Really. John. Isn’t bullying above you?” 

 

John’s eyes darkened. “You didn’t seem to mind when I was beating up the men who had captured you. Captured you because you acted like an _idiot_.” 

 

John rose up to Sherlock’s ear. “Stop fighting me.” John’s breath was hot against Sherlock’s ear. John’s tongue darted out and traced the soft skin where ear became jaw. “You told me once-” John’s tongue licked a line down to Sherlock’s adam’s apple. His teeth brushed up against it. “Don’t tempt me.” 

 

Sherlock bit at his lower lip. Sherlock knew if he still had a beating heart that it would be thumping out of control. Even with his undead status, there was a fire building in his veins. The fire remained, there was only the lack of his heart pounding in his chest. 

 

John’s heat radiated on to Sherlock- along with the strong smell of sweat. Sweat from lust and sweat from the flight earlier. To compound the fact, it was days before John’s transformation and his body was already starting to show the signs of preparation for the full moon. Sherlock moaned when sharp teeth bit down at his neck. 

 

John chuckled. “How do you like being on the receiving end?” 

 

“John.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. 

 

“I asked you a question.” All laughter faded from John’s voice. Sherlock didn’t need to see John’s eyes to know that they had grown dark. John’s right hand rubbed up against Sherlock’s crouch; easily finding the erection there. 

 

“You complain but your body gives you away.” John removed the hand that had been gripping Sherlock’s arms over his head. “Couch now.” Sherlock obeyed silently. 

 

John lifted his blood stained shirt over his head. The same moon that had accented him in the abandoned house covered John’s torso again. John wasn’t flabby, but it was hard to believe how much power was concentrated in his compacted form. Sherlock watched greedily as John unbuttoned his trousers and removed his pants. 

 

John’s own erection stood flush against his lower abdomen. He narrowed his eyes at the vampire. “Why are you still dressed?” 

 

Sherlock lifted his hands to unbutton his shirt. John’s hand reached out and ripped one side of Sherlock’s shirt down. The buttons went flying in all directions. John lowered his hand and rolled his fingertips over Sherlock’s taunt stomach muscles. John licked his lips. 

 

With the rest of his clothing removed, Sherlock pinned John on his back down on the couch. Victory was short lived. With a small amount of the swiftness he had used earlier, John had Sherlock trapped under him. 

 

The change in position surprised the taller man. John straddle him. Fingers made figure-eight patterns over Sherlock’s chest and stomach. Occasionally a nipple would be twisted and Sherlock squirmed. John’s cock kept rubbing up against Sherlock’s and the dark haired man tried to time his movements for maximum contact. 

 

John frowned. He planted his foot on the floor and lifted his body up. Grabbing Sherlock on both sides, John lifted him- so that the vampire went onto his stomach. With another quick movement, Sherlock was on his knees. John kept his foot planted on the ground. His right hand planted itself palm down on the hallow of Sherlock’s back. “Down.” That was the only word the werewolf had to say. 

 

Sherlock’s face was buried into the couch cushions. His arms stretched out and he dug his hand’s into the material of the arm of the couch. It was sweet torture to feel John’s hands all over him. The man over him spoke. “You like it when I take control?” 

 

Sherlock knew it was a rhetorical question. Because of his utter hate of them, Sherlock’s mouth remained closed. “Really, John. This is hardly a power play.” The moment the snarky words were out his mouth Sherlock knew he was in for it. Unsurprisingly, he liked it better that way. 

 

The hands that had been touching him gently stopped. One hand came down and smacked Sherlock on the ass. He gasped at the sharp stinging contact. John’s right hand curled around Sherlock’s hip. “I suppose I’ll have to show you whose in charge at the moment.” 

 

Sherlock remained silent at the sound of a lube bottle being opened with teeth and applied. John threw the small bottle across the room. Fingers were tracing along Sherlock’s crack and he rocked into the warm touch. With only a few strokes, John placed one finger inside Sherlock. The kneeling man hissed at the sudden invasion. 

Discomfort was replaced with pleasure as Sherlock moved back and forth against the finger. Soon one became two and Sherlock picked up his pace. John’s lips placed short small kisses on Sherlock’s back. Kisses turned into bites and John dragged his tongue along Sherlock. 

 

Sherlock ground hard and John hummed his approval. With a final thrust, John took his fingers out. “John.” Sherlock didn’t like how his tone was needy but John had to hurry _now_. After seeing the way John had destroyed the capturers, all Sherlock could think about was this moment on the couch. When they could comfort each other in their own way; a confirmation that the other man was still there after all that had happened. 

 

John dragged his cock up against Sherlock’s backside before bringing it to Sherlock’s waiting heat. With more care than he had used with his fingers, John entered Sherlock. The vampire moaned into the couch and his body went up to connect with John. With one more thrust, John was buried in Sherlock. 

 

After a moment to let his adjust, John began to move his body. He gripped Sherlock on the hips and used his momentum to pick up the pace. Sherlock moved up to join John and they easily moved into each other- forming an even rhythm. John let out a groan. 

 

John moved his hand down and brushed against Sherlock’s cock. Matching their grinding, John’s hand wrapped around Sherlock and began to tug. Sherlock moaned at the sudden touch. The pace became frantic and Sherlock could only hear his panting and the sounds being made at the joining of their two bodies.

 

With one last pump from John’s hand, Sherlock came. John abandoned the last part of his control and pounded into Sherlock. John groaned as his orgasm finally overcame him. John slowly backed away from Sherlock and their bodies separated. John reached for his discarded shirt and wiped his hand off. 

 

When he turned back around, Sherlock was laying on his back with a content smile on his face. John crawled over him and snuggled in between Sherlock and the back of the couch. John swirled his finger over Sherlock’s sensitive skin causing the taller man to shiver. 

 

They shared a quick kiss and Sherlock bit down on John’s lower lip. John fanned his hand over Sherlock’s chest and released a content hum. “Sorry.” Sherlock knew John wouldn’t make him apologize but for some reason Sherlock had the rare urge too. 

 

“I know.” John closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Sherlock watched John sleep and kept a silent watch over the apartment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Savvybby! I don't know if I really got the kink down. I rewrote a lot of it because at first I thought I was trying too hard...now did it come off not at all? It's a fine balance. Let me know what was good and what was lacking. Be gentle with me! 
> 
> ...and of course I hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Taming my Lord AU cheesy romance novel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is straight up crack AU where John is a ‘damsel’ and Sherlock is ‘My Lord’. Johnlock smut written like a cheesy romance novel. You have been warned!  
> P.S. I used Holmes’ because I’m American and so it is the American spelling.

John Watson let out a shaky sigh. His whole body hummed with the feeling of having Lord Sherlock Holmes’ firm body draped over his. It had started innocently enough, now their lips had parted and Holmes was staring at John with a powerful intensity. 

 

Firelight from the flames in the fireplace danced on Holmes’ face and bare chest. His cheek bones were incredibly high and spoke of his distinction. Lord Holmes’ eyes were bright with sexual passion and flashed dangerously at John. 

 

The man below him shivered with anticipation. John’s heart was thumping like mad and he knew it was obvious to Holmes how flushed he was at the moment. Holmes’ lips were red and plump from the ravishing they had just placed on John’s own mouth. John’s tongue darted out at the memory and Holmes’ eyes darkened. 

 

Holmes’ mouth descended onto John’s again and he brought his body back down. The burning that had pooled in John’s lower abdomen was so hot and it threatened to overtake him whole body. John wanted to drown in the passion but something held him back. 

 

He ripped his lips from Holmes’ and turned his head to the side, unable to met his Lord’s intense gaze. “What is it, John?” The Lord’s voice was rough and gravelly. 

 

John worried at his bottom lip. “I...I just, do I matter, Lord Holmes? Am I another conquest?” John’s chest burst with anticipation at how the man above him would answer.  


“Isn’t it obvious? You are my light. The anchor that holds me down in the stormy sea of my mind. There has only ever been you. Darling, you are my everything. I love you.” Holmes’ voice cracked, filled with the depth of his devotion. 

 

John turned to met Holmes in the eyes. His Lord’s eyes were filled with unspilled tears and his face radiated with a depth of devotion that took John’s breath away. 

 

“Sherlock...” John’s voice was breathless with the brashness that he had just addressed his Lord. John could feel his heart throbbing in his ribcage, ready burst out of him at any moment.

 

“John.” After that no more words were exchanged as Sherlock’s lips pressed gently once again to the love of his life. Their mouths danced the forbidden dance of desire and unbridled passion. It was hot and wet and their tongues brushed up against one another. 

 

John mewed and Sherlock bit down on the smaller man’s lower lip. Sherlock moved his hands to take off John’s shirt. As the piece of clothing was removed, Sherlock gasped at his first glance of his lover’s chest. 

 

It was bronze and his honey-dipped chest hairs glowed in the firelight. Sherlock ran a hand through them and placed his hand over John’s heart. John knew that his heart was beating like a caged bird and the intimate gesture made John smile softly. 

 

Sherlock brought his lips back to John’s with impatience. The kiss started to rise in intensity and soon kissing was no longer enough to quench the thirst building in John’s lower half. 

 

John fingers grazed over taut muscles. Sherlock’s skin was like alabaster; it was incredible pale and flawless. He had the physique of Greek god. Sherlock’s muscles were like carved marble and John hungrily touched every inch of skin he could reach. 

 

Sherlock lifted his body up and John groaned in objection. Sherlock placed a quieting finger on John’s lips. Then he moved his hand down to John’s trousers. He began to unbutton the only piece of clothing that separated John from being completely nude. When Sherlock’s knuckles stroked against the evidence of John’s arousal, the blonde man let out a soft cry. 

 

After John’s trousers were removed, Sherlock began to unbutton his own. John watched in silent anticipation. His own breath sounded strangled in his ears. John’s eyes were full of lust as he watched the dark haired man unrobe. 

 

Sherlock was breath-taking in his nude glory. His own swollen gland was flush up against his flat stomach. John ached to touch it, to feel its heavy weight in his hands. 

 

With features clouded with desire, Sherlock bent his now naked body back over John. Hot flesh pressed down on John and his body sang with how searing the touch was all over him. John felt his whole body being devoured with the need to feel Sherlock inside of him. 

 

Sherlock began to seductively kiss John again and the blonde man could only focus on Sherlock’s wet, unrelenting assault. The darker man’s flesh tower rubbed up against John’s own thick rod and it caused a needy cry to escape from John’s parted mouth. 

 

Sherlock thrust his hips so that their pricks could continue to rub up against each other to create a delicious heat. John’s whole body was alight with sensation and his body began to glow with a sheen of sweat. 

 

Sherlock lifted his body up and his fingers began to trance John’s pleading entrance. John’s breathing picked up and he panted breathlessly as Sherlock’s fingers entered his body. It felt like an invasion and John wiggled against it. John’s hands flung over his head and he clung to the rug beneath him. 

 

Sherlock continued to claim John as his own. John’s lower belly began to clinch with need and he felt an overwhelming passion for Sherlock to fill him as no man had ever done before. His fingers stroked deep inside and John let out another pleading cry. 

 

He brought his fingers up to press against John’s core. It was like lightning coursing through his veins and John’s body arched up. John trembled as Sherlock continued to touch the very center of his being. The fire became an inferno and John ground harder against Sherlock’s skilled fingers.

 

After his fingers were removed from John’s warm center, he lined his weeping member at John’s waiting entrance. They exchanged a look and John nodded his head. Sherlock needed no other permission. He plunged his manhood into John’s dripping heat. 

 

John let out a loud cry as Sherlock filled him. Sherlock stayed still for a moment before he began to rock his hips. John’s hands left the rug and buried themselves in Sherlock’s dark silky curls. Sherlock’s cheeks were flushed and he breathed out John’s name like a prayer. 

 

John clung even tighter to Sherlock. Their bodies began to move in rhythm to each other. It was a frenzied coupling. Sherlock pounded himself into John’s tight heat. As they reached the pinnacle of their climax, John cried out. Whiteness blotted out John’s vision as he orgasmed. Spasms racked through his body at the violent finish and it left him in a state of euphoria. 

 

Sherlock thrust one more time before he joined John in going over the edge. Sherlock’s finish was no less glorious then John’s had been. The breathless cry that escaped Sherlock’s mouth filled John with pride to know that he had been the one to bring the untouchable Lord down to his knees. 

 

John smiled. For he had been the one to finally thaw the ice around the untouchable Lord’s heart. 

 

 

 


	6. Revolving around you AU GREASERLOCK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is suppose to help Sherlock with his astronomy homework but our boys get distracted by far more pleasurable pursuits. This links to the other greaserlock I wrote because I can (but it really doesn't matter if you read the other one) :D 
> 
> Keywork: Mutual handjobs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bulalol for another AU Greaserlock. 
> 
> PS I am TOTALLY ignoring all scientific stuff. This is PWP don’t make me research anything but sex positions. 
> 
> Remember if you have an requests let me know! I totally accept all AUs, fawnlock, batlock and tunalock included...although I can't promise how seriously some of them will be.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember this.” John let out a long sigh as he leaned his head back against the headboard of Sherlock’s impossibly large bed. It was Saturday afternoon and they had sent the last few hours going over Sherlock’s astronomy homework. It had been less than productive. 

 

Sherlock’s legs were draped over John’s along with a multitude of different reference books. Whenever they tried to discuss a topic Sherlock would demand more answers then were in the textbook and John would have to find an answer from the library books he had checked out just in case. It was a mixed blessing. 

 

“Sherlock, what does it matter if you don’t know why the earth revolves around the sun or why planets even have to move!” John let out another long suffering sigh. “I mean _no one_ knows that!” He was overcome with an urge to throw a book at Sherlock’s head. Maybe that would rattle it around enough so the greaser would be more manageable. 

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Obviously it matters, John. If I don’t have all the facts, then how can I know that the answer is correct? Am I suppose to believe their assumptions and that be it? I think not.” Too add to his haughty air, Sherlock wrinkled his nose. 

 

It was a crime that Sherlock was such a a mass of contradictions. Not for the first time, John amazed at the fact that _this_ was the impossible man he wanted to be with. _Although I wonder if one hand job counts as a relationship._ John quickly shoved his nose back into the book in his hands. Hoping that Sherlock hadn’t seen the telling spark of confusion flash over his features. 

 

John’s head jerked up when he felt Sherlock place a hand on his thigh. The greaser was looking at him with an odd intensity. John’s cheeks flared up and the knowledge that he was blushing made John turn even redder. 

 

“Is that what you want, John? A relationship with someone like me?” Sherlock’s eyes were dark and threatening. John licked his lips nervously. He had been so sure a moment ago, now he didn’t know. Sherlock had been constantly on his mind the last three days- the greaser had consumed him completely with just one touch. 

 

John’s eyes roamed over Sherlock. His jacket was off and he was wearing a white shirt. He had on tight blue jeans and purple socks. He looked so average; even down to his slicked back black hair. John knew there was more to the man before and John realized that he wanted to be the one to discover it. John wanted to discover what made Sherlock tick. 

 

“Yes.” It was a breathy whisper but that didn’t change the impact it had on the atmosphere in the room. 

 

Sherlock smiled. It was a true smile that reached his eyes and John knew he had made the right decision. Sherlock reached forward and placed his lips on John’s surprised mouth. It was more tender than the first kiss they had shared. John’s body melted into it and his hand rose to rest on Sherlock’s arm. 

 

The greaser brought his own hand up to John’s face. He traced his fingertips over John’s cheek, neck and even fingered the side of John’s glasses. The feather light touches sent a shiver up John’s spine. Sherlock deepened the kiss and John let Sherlock take the reins. John had kissed a few times but being the official nerd of the school rarely presented him with the chance to kiss anyone. 

 

Sherlock’s touch traced every inch of John’s mouth, lips and devoured all it could find. Feeling especially wicked, Sherlock drew his mouth away and began to tug at John’s bottom lip with his teeth. John tried to recapture Sherlock’s lips but the taller man kept avoiding John’s hungry mouth. 

 

John let out a frustrated growl and bunched his hands up into Sherlock’s shirt and crushed their lips back together. Sherlock let out a throaty laugh and let John have his way with him. 

 

Sherlock shifted his body so that John straddled him on the bed. Sherlock had his back pressed against the wall. John’s hips started to move against Sherlock and although John had little (okay, none) experience he knew that the man below him was enjoying the new turn of events just as much as he was. 

 

Fingers came up to greased hair and started to mess up the perfect hairdo. Sherlock let out an annoyed grunt and John nibbled at his chin. Sherlock threw his head back and completely forgot about his hair as John placed kiss all over Sherlock’s slender neck. 

 

Hips continued to grind against each other and John was panting as Sherlock moved his hands to John’s trousers. This time, John removed his hands from Sherlock’s thick curls to unbutton the greaser’s jeans. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. 

 

“I don’t want to be the only one this time.” John panted out as his fingers unbuttoned Sherlock’s jeans. 

 

After lifting up John’s vest and shirt, Sherlock’s long fingers fanned out on John’s stomach. He enjoyed the soft sensation of John’s skin under his fingers before unzipping the smaller boy’s trousers. 

 

John let out a hiss as cold air reached his growing erection. Sherlock’s hands quickly dipped under his pants and released John’s cock. 

 

John licked his lips and was momentarily distracted as Sherlock rubbed his thumb over John’s slit. Through the hazy of Sherlock touching him, he finally remembered to remove Sherlock from his own pants. 

 

Sherlock groaned as John’s fingers finally wrapped around his erection. Experimentally, John ran his hand slowly up and down the length. John smirked at the throaty sound Sherlock made. It filled him with power to know that Sherlock was making that sound because of his touch and some of his shyness was washed away. 

 

John watched with half-parted eyes as they both touched each other’s erections. Sherlock’s hand was slow, so that John’s skin bunched up and slid down with a slow friction. Despite the pre-cum on Sherlock, John wanted more slickness, so he brought his hand up to his mouth. 

 

Sherlock brought his eyes up, so that he could watch John suck on his own fingers. John closed his eyes and sighed. When John’s eyelids lifted, he was pleased to see how glazed over Sherlock’s eyes were. John brought his hand back down and started to stroke Sherlock with a renewed vigor. 

 

The pressure continued to build and John knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Sherlock’s own breath was coming in and out in quick gasps. Before he had a chance to think about it too much, John grabbed for his own cock and brought it together with Sherlock’s erection. 

 

Sherlock covered John’s hand and they rubbed their erections together. Fire had shot up John’s veins at Sherlock’s hand, but to have their cocks rubbing against each other as they both got off was too much. 

 

It was a exercise in futility but John tried to keep his orgasm at bay. He didn’t want to lose the feeling of skirting along the edge with the gorgeous man under him. It was Sherlock who came first. He thrust up hard and groaned. Sherlock rocked his hips up into the orgasm and covered the top of his cock with his hand. 

 

Sherlock quickly began to fist John’s cock again. John barely registered that Sherlock was using his own come to bring him to his climax. John’s whole body shook with the violence of it and he used both hands to grip onto Sherlock’s upper arms. He continued to buck up into Sherlock’s fist even as the last wave of pleasure consumed him. 

 

John opened his eyes slowly and placed his head on Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock grabbed a discarded shirt and wiped them off. He placed a kiss on John’s ear and buttoned up his pants. After a moment, John did the same. Still he didn’t roll of the greaser, instead he just laid limply against his chest. 

 

John noticed that along with the blankets they had knocked half the books off the bed too. John let out a small giggle. He was still lightheaded from the intensity of everything that had transpired and how wonderful (and unpredictable) it was going to be with Sherlock Holmes. 

 

“Don’t think this gets you out of naming all the planets.” 

 

Sherlock let out a curse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bulalol! Okay, so they didn't really have 'sex'. If you want a ::gasp:: penetration ::blush:: chapter let me know! I really do like greaserlock.


	7. Hey John! HEY ARNOLD AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sher!Helga and John!Arnold   
> A/N: Sherlock’s POV Hey Arnold! AU That’s right. You read that right. Oh yeah!   
> Keyword: kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Some dialogue taken from “Love Cheese” episode.   
> P.S.S I imagine Sherlock having a bow tie that’s pink >

Sherlock dashed behind a row of garbage cans. He crouched down into the shadows as a pair of classmates walked by. As they pasted, Sherlock held on tightly to the locket in his hands. Once he was sure that the danger had passed, Sherlock gazed back down at the picture in the locket. 

 

Sherlock released a long shuttering sigh. “Conductor of my soul.” Sherlock stroked his fingers over the smiling picture of John. “With your adorable unruly tuffs of hair that stick out all willy nilly. You’re kind nature and giving soul. If only I could find the words to tell you how much I cared...Instead of treating you so horribly.” Sherlock threw his head back and placed his arm over his eyes for dramatic effect.

 

“Sherlock?” 

 

At the sound of the all to familiar voice Sherlock froze. He quickly stuffed the lock back into his shirt and turned around to face his beloved. “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?!” Sherlock’s voice picked up a few octaves higher as he stabbed an accusatory finger at the blonde boy. 

 

“I could ask you the same question.” John eyed Sherlock suspiciously. “Why are you always hiding?” 

 

Sherlock’s eyes darted back and forth. “Um...” He felt like a caged animal. Sherlock tried to look for an out but he didn’t see one. A blush spread out to cover Sherlock’s cheeks and he stared at John in mounting horror. 

 

John cocked his head to the side and licked his lips nervously. He covered the distance between them to stand in front of Sherlock. The taller boy just knew that the blonde before him could hear his heartbeat, it was pounding in his ears. Blocking out all sound, Sherlock tried to loss himself in the white noise. 

 

“Were you talking to your locket?” It was barely above a whisper. 

 

Sherlock’s eyes were as big as saucers and he tried to sputter out an excuse. John’s eyelids dropped and he gave Sherlock a knowing smile. Suddenly John’s hands were on his arms and he had dragged the dark haired boy into a hard kiss. 

 

Sherlock stood as stiff as a board. His brain tried to process what was happening but it was sensory overload. John’s lips were not demanding and instead lingered on Sherlock’s waiting for the surprised boy to take the next move. 

 

The initial shock wore off and Sherlock’s hands reached up to grab at John’s hair. He pressed their lips ever tighter together. John tasted like toothpaste and an underlining taste that was uniquely him. Sherlock hoped momentarily that his breath didn’t reflect the experiment he had been working on earlier. 

 

John’s lips parted as Sherlock gently pressed his tongue against them. His tongue hesitantly made its way into the other boy’s mouth. John let out a low groan and Sherlock’s fingers tightened in John’s hair. 

 

John angled his head to the side. The new angle afforded Sherlock the ability to explore farther and John’s own tongue began its invasion into Sherlock’s waiting mouth. John’s touch brought all sensation to a glorious focused point. All Sherlock could touch, smell, understand was John. His mind had never been so singular in its concentration. 

 

Sherlock knew he was going to be out of breath soon but he couldn’t break the connection he had with John. Sherlock had no idea what he would say to the boy that was the center of his world. 

\----

 

“Sherlock?” John raised a questioning eyebrow at the boy crouching before of him.

 

Sherlock blinked repeatedly and rushed to hid his locket. “Crimety!” 

 

Of course it had been a dream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me this made someone giggle like a school girl. I love Hey Arnold! so much. They are my original OTP.


	8. Complicated AU WINGLOCK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from kneecap
> 
> keywords: top!John and wings :D
> 
> woooo this ended up being longer than I would have ever thought! Apparently I like winglock...did I do okay? Let me know. I really like this but once again I don't know how well I captured an AU that I don't know much about.

It was a unfurl of wing. A ruffle of feathers. A smooth calming sound that blanketed everything around it. Over the last few months, John had grown accustomed to the restlessness that Sherlock treated his wings whenever they were in the middle of a case. John preferred to keep his wings tucked away but what Sherlock did with his wings was his own business...or the doctor tried to tell himself. 

 

It was just the constant motion, the reminder that they were there, that drove John to near insanity. It wasn’t that wings were regarded with distaste, just that they were to be kept to oneself. One did not go around ruffling and twitching them with company in the room. Although John wondered if he was still considered ‘company’. Sherlock had always treated him the same way since the day he had stepped over the threshold of 221B, so there was nothing to compare his unusual (or usual) behavior too. 

 

So John sat in silence, flexing his fingers and trying to overpower the urge to ask Sherlock permission to touch his wings. John didn’t quite know what it would do to their relationship and he was trying to keep it as uncomplicated as possible...

 

_Uncomplicated._ That would not be a word he would use to describe his life after moving in with Sherlock. John licked his lips and turned the page of his newspaper- John had no idea what the article he had been ‘reading’ had been about. 

 

Sunlight was filtering in through the windows and was illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air. John sighed and he watched as the particles were disrupted by his exhaling breath. Nothing could keep his interest though, as his mind continued to wander everywhere and no where, always arriving back at the same spot- Sherlock. 

 

“Why don’t you make tea?” Sherlock broke the silence. He had his hands steepled under his chin and one wing stretched out near the fire. 

 

“What? Why?” John eyed Sherlock over his newspaper, pretending that he hadn’t been staring at Sherlock for a majority of time they had been silent. 

 

“You’re upset. Making tea calms you. Therefore, if you make tea it will calm you.” Sherlock wrinkled his eyebrows together as if it was the most obvious conclusion in the world. 

 

John rolled his eyes and put his neglected newspaper down. The doctor made his way to the kitchen and turned the tap on. John went through the motions. As the kettle began to whistle, John cursed because he really did feel more relaxed. Sherlock knew him all too well. 

 

John poured the hot water into two mugs and placed a tea bag in each. John cursed under his breath again when he realized he had made a cup of tea for Sherlock. John brought the mugs out and placed the tea away from Sherlock’s outstretched wing on the side table. Sherlock had knocked over a cup of tea once and Ms. Hudson had complained about the stain for weeks. 

 

Sherlock’s eyes flittered up and locked onto John. John swallowed hard and found it difficult to move. Sherlock blinked breaking the contact. Before John could make his way back to the comfort of his chair, Sherlock cleared his throat. 

 

“You’re still not calm, John.” It was a statement but John heard the question underlining it. “Making tea always calms you. Why is it different now?” 

 

Sherlock eyed him and John shifted uncomfortably. Sherlock’s eyes lighted with understanding and then darkened. “John-”

 

“Stop.” John interrupted Sherlock before he could ask. Of course, Sherlock could tell as soon as he took the time to actually look. John knew he couldn’t distract Sherlock from his observation but John wanted to hear it from his own lips. “Yes, I want to touch your wings.” An apology played on his tongue, John bit it back. _What do I have to apologize for? Sherlock is the one always flaunting them everywhere!_ John knew he had seen plenty of wings and yet he had never felt the need to run his fingers over them. Still it was easier just to blame the other man instead of exploring his own emotions. 

 

Sherlock tilted his head and his gaze swept over John. Even if John knew it was written all over his face, John held his ground. It really was embarrassing. He had invaded Afghanistan, he could do this. _Hopefully._

 

“John.” Sherlock motioned towards his outstretched wing. “Please feel free. I have no reservations as others do.”

 

“Baggage.” John muttered under his breath and let out a strangled laugh. How vividly John remembered when Sherlock had made that statement ‘Everything else is baggage’. Now John could see how much Sherlock actually meant those words. 

 

John tried not to let out a shaky breath. It was an internal struggle that only lasted a minute. He placed the other mug of tea down next to Sherlock’s. John made to move to the other side of the chair when Sherlock’s right hand shot out and grabbed at John’s wrist. With his hand around John’s wrist, Sherlock folded his wing to bring it between them.

 

John brought his left hand up. His fingers danced along the air and they brushed gently along Sherlock’s feathers. They were so incredibly soft and nothing like his own course feathers. After a few more experimental touches, John moved his hand so that his palm could stroke down the feathers that made up Sherlock’s right wing. 

 

The wing blocked Sherlock’s face and John felt a disjointed reality because of it. It was as if Sherlock was willing to give him permission to touch him but he didn’t want to share in the experience of it- with the intimacy. John swallowed hard and removed his hand from Sherlock’s wing. 

 

With a start, John felt Sherlock’s thumb rubbing back and forth on his hand. The simple act helped to erase some of the doubt that John had about what he wanted to do next. With an ease that surprised him, John opened his legs and moved to straddle Sherlock. 

 

Sherlock’s wing flung back and a few feathers drifted through the air. John wiggled his nose as one brushed along his face. The detective’s eyes were big, like he hadn’t been expected this development. John smiled, pleased that he had been able to surprise the man who was always a step ahead. 

 

John grabbed at one of the falling feathers and rolled it between his thumb and index finger. Sherlock’s other wing unfolded from behind his back. Sherlock brought John’s hand to it and let his own hand drop. It fell to John’s hip and it barely held onto his body. The touch still felt red hot and a myriad of different sensations alit all over John’s right side. 

 

As his hand traced over Sherlock’s wing, he released the feather in his hand and cupped Sherlock’s cheek. With a swift movement, John’s lips were on Sherlock. John scooted in closer and Sherlock’s other hand reached out to grab John’s other hip. 

 

Sherlock made no move to touch John’s wings and John was thankful for it. Instead he was able to focus on plying Sherlock’s mouth open with his tongue. Sherlock relented against the assault and John’s tongue darted into the detective’s mouth. John tilted his head to the side. 

 

Sherlock tasted like cigarettes and stale coffee. It wasn’t a pleasant taste but it made up the man who was underneath him. This was Sherlock Holmes and every bit of him was bare for John to explore. His mouth was warm and inviting and John smiled as Sherlock’s own tongue made its way into his greedy mouth. 

 

They tried to swallow each other whole. John brought his hand away from Sherlock’s wing and began to claw at the button’s on his shirt. Sherlock untucked John’s shirt and his fingers glossed over John’s soft skin. John shivered. 

 

John’s fingers quickly opened Sherlock’s shirt and he fanned his fingers over the expanse of pale skin. There wasn’t a single hair on his chest and John marveled at the warmth of it. Sherlock’s heart was beating rapidly. John moved his hand over Sherlock’s nipple. With a low groan from Sherlock, John was encouraged to twist his nipple lightly with his two fingers. 

 

Sherlock’s hands moved up higher over John’s back and stopped before they reached his shoulders. John let a moan ripple through his body as his wings opened up. He rarely did it with company and never with Sherlock. His gray wings spread wider and John marveled at how fantastic it felt to stretch them. 

 

Sherlock’s hips moved up and John felt Sherlock’s growing erection. John knew that his own was now rubbing up against it. John moaned against Sherlock’s mouth and flexed his wings again. 

 

Sherlock’s own white wings rustled and John found that he liked the sound that it made- that it complemented his own in a way he never thought possible. With the normal pressure from keeping his wings tightly folded in relieved, John gave himself over fully to Sherlock. 

 

They continued to move against each other. Hands tracing over flesh. John nuzzled Sherlock’s hair and breathed in the sweet shampoo. John knew it was probably ridiculously expensive and it made him smile. John inhaled deeper and rubbed a hand through the dark curls that he had ached to touch almost as much as the wings. 

 

John moved his hand down and began to unbuckle Sherlock’s belt. The detective moaned and thrust up. With the added encouragement, John brought his other hand down to quicken the task. With the belt removed, John flicked open the top button of Sherlock’s trousers. He paused and let his palm rub against Sherlock’s erection through his trousers. 

 

Sherlock’s bit at John’s neck and his teeth sunk in as John released Sherlock from his trousers. The pain sharped John’s senses and his body flared up from the pain. His wings shook and another shiver rocked his body. Sherlock’s tongue trailed over John’s shoulder in between light kisses. 

 

John palmed Sherlock and brought the heel of his hand down hard as he rubbed up. Sherlock rocked up to met the motion and John could feel a cool wetness at the top of Sherlock’s pants at the tip of his erection. John let his fingers gloss through it and his fingers gripped the detective through his pants.

 

John quickly got of off Sherlock. John threw off his stripped shirt and unbuttoned his trousers. Sherlock looked up with heavy lidded eyes. With shaky legs, Sherlock stood up and his trousers fell down to his knees. Sherlock slipped his shirt off and stepped out of his trousers. 

 

After removing the rest of his clothes, Sherlock stepped forward and brought his hands up to smooth along the top of John’s wings. John began to move away but stopped himself. He wanted to give this to Sherlock and so he rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder as the taller man explored his wings. A blush crept over John’s body and his cheeks flamed with both embarrassment and a wonderful feeling of release. 

 

Sherlock finally stepped back and placed a chaste kiss on John. The kiss deepened and John knew his body was hot from another emotion. The kiss lingered but John needed more. He pushed Sherlock gently and pointed to the chair with his eyes. Sherlock’s eyes grew dark as he turned around and put one knee on his chair and braced himself with his hands of the back of his chair. 

Sherlock’s wings were stretched out and John gasped. They were enormous when Sherlock allowed both of them to expand to their full length. The whiteness of Sherlock’s wings contrasted with his skin and almost made his body look tanned. John licked his lips and his fingers twitched at the thought of caressing them again. 

 

“Don’t move.” John had been worried that speaking might break the spell but all Sherlock did was nod his head. John ran to his room and grabbed the bottle of lube that he kept in his bedside table. When John returned, Sherlock hadn’t moved a muscle and John couldn’t move fast enough to get back to the waiting man. 

 

John opened the bottle and squeezed the cool liquid onto his fingers. He let his other hand press down on Sherlock’s back as he brought a finger down. Sherlock arched back as John rubbed a small circle around Sherlock’s tight hole. John gentle stroked one last time before he worked his finger into Sherlock. The kneeling man’s wings expanded even farther. John brought his hand up so that it was placed at the spot where wing and skin met. 

 

With his other hand, John continued to open up Sherlock. As one finger became two, Sherlock rocked his body down against them. John let out a groan as Sherlock started to push up against his fingers. John rubbed his erection against one perfectly sculpted ass cheek. 

 

Two fingers became three and John knew he didn’t have to wait much longer. He was impossibly hard and pre-come had spilled over and he used it to rub up slickly against Sherlock’s marble skin. John let out a moan as his fingers were removed from Sherlock. He centered himself in front of Sherlock and applied a slight pressure with one hand to ask for permission. 

 

“Yes, John. A thousand times, yes.” Sherlock’s wings beat up and down once and a cool breeze swept over John’s sweaty skin. The skin on his arms erupted into goosebumps. John pressed his tip into Sherlock and gently rocked his hips forward. Sherlock moved back and took all of John into him. 

 

At the sudden warm pressure John let out a soft curse. He remained unmoving for a moment; allowing it all to wash over him. Then John let reality come crashing back in on itself. With one hand on the skin between Sherlock’s wings and the other wrapped around his hip, John began to thrust deeper. 

 

It was a steady rhythm at first and John hummed as he watched Sherlock move under him. Soon it changed into hungry movements that demanded more. John bumped up against Sherlock’s prostate and the man let out a strangled moan. John started when he realized the had forgotten Sherlock’s own erection. 

 

John brought his hand up and and wrapped it around Sherlock’s hard cock. Using the pre-come, John played his fingers over Sherlock’s slit. The detective rocked into John’s hand and moaned at the welcome friction. They kept up the steady back and forth motions until John was at his peak. Before he could come, Sherlock’s body shook violently and his cock was pulsating in John’s hand as he came. Sherlock’s wings became ridged and then every feather shivered as the orgasm rocked through his body. 

 

John was transfixed on the wings as his own orgasm crashed over him. John dug in even deeper with one last thrust. “Sherlock.” John bit his lip down but the name still escaped from his lips. 

 

After another moment had passed, John pulled out and Sherlock stood up from his chair. His lips searched for John and pressed a happy kiss to his temple. John let out a laugh and was surprised when a deep chuckle echoed his own. They had so much to talk about but for now all John wanted to do was take the detective upstairs and collapse into a mess of limbs onto Sherlock’s bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm going to do the last(?) Greaserlock, some delinquent!lock and an AU Anastasia. Any requests about order or what we want in them? 
> 
> All I know is that greaserlock will have penetration ::giggle:: but anything else? Do tell!


	9. Stranded AU DESERT ISLAND

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John are stranded...naturally sexy times happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised other stuff but this came to me and I had to write it. 
> 
> TW: Plane crash...? Just to be sure
> 
> Keyword: Top!Sherlock & a slight pain kink

_The sound of winds rushing through his ears. Screams all around him. The sound of his own screaming echoing though his ears. John’s fingers clung to the arms of his airplane seat to the point that his knuckles were breaking out of his skin. John tried to focus on something but there was too much happening. He gazed up at the hole that had started the chain reaction._

 

_The plane swerved from side to side. John knew it won’t be too much longer until they crashed into the ocean. All he had wanted to do was take a relaxing vacation at the beach. That was all. John let out another gut wrenching yell. How could it end like this? He had survived Afghanistan only to die like this?_

 

_It was only a matter of moments. The plane would crash into the ocean and splinter into a thousand pieces and kill them all..._

 

“John! Wake up!” 

 

A distant voice broke through the fog of his nightmare. _But this is no nightmare this happening. I can smell the smoke..._

 

“John!” 

 

_His whole body was shaking. Of course, it was the plane shaking apart on impact..._

 

“John! Please, wake up!”  

 

John’s eyelids flew up. He was drenched in a cold sweat and he thrashed against the hands holding him down. Another yell was ripped from his lips before John could slow his breathing. His pupils slowly came back into focus and John blinked. He was in a small shack- not an plane cabin. 

 

A shack that he had helped build with the only other survivor of the plane crash. John turned his head to the side and was relieved to see Sherlock Holmes there. Although that fact reminded him that his nightmare had been real but only that it had taken place months before. Two months to be exact. 

 

Sixty days of living in a disjointed shadow of his former life. At first, he had been happy to find another survivor...then he had gotten to know the man. Sherlock and he had fought like cats and dogs but after Sherlock had eaten some bad fruit and John had had to nurse him back to health, the dimensions of their relationship had shifted. 

 

They were reluctant friends but John found that he was grateful for the company. Then the nightmares had begun. Just as he had been plagued with memories of the war, now nightmares of the crash demanded more of his time while asleep. During the day, John was able to fight the demons off. It was during the night that they found him and tore apart his sanity. 

 

Sherlock’s hand lingered on his shoulder. It was an anchoring force that brought him back to the present. Sherlock never judged or ridiculed his nightmares- never asked any questions. Sherlock knew he didn’t have to and John respected him for that. 

 

Tonight they had been more vivid than any John had had before. His hand reached up for Sherlock’s and brought their interlaced fingers to his chest. John’s heart was still pounding in his ribcage; he willed it to slow down. John took a few deep breaths through his nose and exhaled out of his mouth. 

 

Sherlock rubbed his thumb over John’s hand. Although there was little light filtering in through the cracks in their makeshift shack, John could see how soft Sherlock’s eyes were looking down on him. John had obvious woken him up from a deep sleep with his yells and yet the man kept his usually harsh words to himself. They were different men in the nighttime. One who was actual seemed care and another who was afraid of his own shadow. 

 

John licked his lips. His tongue felt heavy and he found it difficult to apologize, for what seemed like the dozenth time, about the same thing. He had once offered to sleep outside, but Sherlock refused to hear anything about it. John had been grateful even though it added to his guilt. 

 

Sherlock squeezed his hand which was the signal that he would now release John’s hand, turn around and fall back asleep. John had always let him; never demanding more than Sherlock was willing to give. 

 

Tonight he couldn’t accept that. 

 

John held on to Sherlock’s hand with desperate strength. Sherlock’s eyes grew wide but he made no move to take his hand away from John’s. After a moment of hesitation, John lifted up his other arm and brushed his hand along the skin of Sherlock’s right arm. 

 

Sherlock remained unmoving. His breathing was steady and John began to wonder if the man above him had even registered his light caresses. Sherlock’s expression grew softer but it was still guarded. “John?” 

 

This time his name was spoken with affection and not urgency. It was nothing like the frantic way Sherlock had called his name only moments ago. There were a thousand questions asked in that one word and John wanted to say ‘yes’ to all of them. Sherlock sounded so unsure and John wanted to reassure him in everything.

 

They would have time to talk. They had all the time in the world together. John let out a chuckle and Sherlock tilted his head to the side in confusion. John found that he was giggling. The first real laugher he had had in what seemed like forever. His fear and uncertainty were laughed away and John smiled. 

 

The answering smile that Sherlock gave was so wide that his eyes crinkled around the edges. John saw his own happiness reflected in Sherlock’s eyes. John’s left hand moved up to Sherlock’s neck and gently tugged the man down to him. 

 

It was like electricity when their lips finally touched. Sherlock’s lips were chapped from sun exposer and tasted of salt. John quickly opened his mouth and Sherlock followed. The man above him tasted like the fish they had eaten only hours before. His stubble rubbed against his face and John found that he liked the harsh texture against his skin. 

 

After the initial hesitance wore off, Sherlock deepened the kiss. John wrung his fingers around the curls on Sherlock’s neck. His hair had begun to grow out and John loved the way the midnight curls framed Sherlock’s face. 

 

Their hands remained laced together on John’s chest. He knew his heartbeat was picking up again but John didn’t care enough to try and hide it. As soon as their lips had touched, John knew he had been waiting for that exact moment ever since they had first talked after the crash. 

 

Sherlock bit at John’s lower lip, eliciting a moan from the man on the ground. In one fluid movement, Sherlock was straddling John. Sherlock’s fingers started to trace a pattern along John’s ribs. He lightly fingered each one and John shivered; goosebumps raising the hair on his arms. It reached his nipples and Sherlock brought a finger to the hard nub. 

 

He rolled it gently and flicked it once with his fingernail. John squirmed underneath him. Sherlock bit down harder on John’s lip and he tasted blood. John’s fingers glided from Sherlock’s shoulders down to his hips. John answered pain with pain and dug his nails into Sherlock’s soft flesh. 

 

John smiled at the thought of seeing the purple skin the next day in the sunlight. They had had to forgone wearing shirts except when the sun was brightest during the day; John hadn’t been too surprised when his cheap clothes had started to disintegrate under the unforgiving sun. All they had on were trousers and even that was uncomfortable in the summer heat. 

 

Another smile played on John’s lips when he realized they could now go around with no clothes. John looked forward to seeing Sherlock nude on the beach with the light of day to show off ever angle of his perfectly sculpted body. Although the both of them had thinned out with the lack of food, Sherlock was still a sight to behold. 

 

John’s mind was brought back from its imagining Sherlock naked, when the man on top of him rubbed their hips together. Another moan escaped from Sherlock’s mouth and John longed to hear another one. 

 

John took his hands away from bruised flesh, to pull at Sherlock’s trousers. He got the hint and stood up to remove his only clothing. John’s hands traveled to his fly and he took his trousers off within a matter of moments. Sherlock was soon back on John. 

 

“Fuck.” The warm weight of Sherlock on him was enough to drive John insane. Sherlock’s erection rubbed against John’s stomach as the taller man bent down. His lips traveled to John’s war wound. Sherlock dragged his teeth across the marred flesh and placed gentle kisses on it. 

 

John’s hands traveled back to the mess of curls on Sherlock’s head. He pulled and tugged at the silky locks as Sherlock’s mouth moved south. He took one of John’s nipples in his teeth and gently bit down as his tongue danced on the tip of it. 

 

John bucked up. “God, Sherlock.” 

 

Everything felt like fire. It had been months since he had been touched like this and even months before the crash. He had asked Sherlock once if he had anyone waiting for him back in London and his only answer had been ‘Not my area.’ 

 

John had had no idea a man who claimed that relationships were ‘not his area’ could have such a talented tongue. John’s body arched up into the touch. No one had ever paid such close attention to this part of his anatomy before and he had obviously been missing out. 

 

Just before John could complain that his nipple was becoming too raw, Sherlock turned his attentions to the other one. John hummed in approval. John wanted to touch more of Sherlock, so he brought his hand down to the other man’s erection. 

 

Their cocks had been rubbing up against each other and John could instantly feel the combination of their pre-come on Sherlock. John’s hand was slow and he let his palm glide over the warm flesh. Sherlock’s mouth hummed its approval on John’s chest. Together they explored each other, just letting the feel of the other person’s body wash away much of the stress that had been building up. 

 

John’s fist tugged up and down, moving the flesh on Sherlock’s cock with it. The taller man began to thrust into John’s hand. Sherlock’s mouth worked its way back up again and after a quick nibble at John’s neck, Sherlock’s tongue was tracing the skin around John’s ear.

 

 “Will you let me?” Sherlock’s voice was low and the need in it was thick. 

 

Even though he had been expecting it, John still paused. Every fiber in John homed in on the part of his skin where he could feel Sherlock’s warm breathe, coming in and out. Then John realized it wasn’t even a question that needed to be considered. He wanted to give himself over to Sherlock in any way that the impossible man on top of him asked for. 

 

“Yes, now please.” John had meant to only give permission but it came out as a plea. 

 

Sherlock kissed his cheek and his hand snaked from its supporting place at John’s side to be placed near his mouth. Sherlock started down at John with dark eyes. John took one long finger in with his tongue and began to suck. Although it was hard to imagine, Sherlock was nuzzling into John’s shoulder as the doctor took another finger into his mouth. 

 

He tried to use the fingers in his mouth as a distraction because if he thought of how hard he was John wasn’t sure he would be able to stop from touching himself and then it would all be over before it had begun. 

 

Sherlock’s fingers, like his lips, tasted of salt and the once soft hands had calluses. That still didn’t stop them from being elegant and the mere thought of where they were going to go next made John moan around them. 

 

With a bite to the ear as a signal that he wanted his fingers back, John opened his mouth to allow the now slick fingers loose. Sherlock un-straddled John and coaxed his leg up so that he could nestle between them. Sherlock placed a hand on John’s shin and kept his leg folded. 

 

Because of their lack of pillows, John bunched up an abandoned shirt and placed it underneath him. Sherlock gave him a smirk and then moved his fingers down. He traced them on the underside of John’s cock and then traced his way over John’s sensitive balls. It was a light touch and it made John’s erection twitch up. 

 

There were gentle caresses before Sherlock placed the tip of his index finger in John. The blonde let out a gasp and threw his head back. Taking it as a sign to proceed, Sherlock inched his way deeper inside of the man before him. Despite the fast that he had slicked his fingers, there was a burning that accompanying the pleasure. 

 

“God!” The exclamation escaped from John’s lips as Sherlock added another finger. John brought his body down on them, bringing Sherlock in even deeper. Sherlock placed a open mouthed kiss on John’s knee before he started to move his fingers in and then out. 

 

John couldn’t believe that the sounds coming out his mouth were his own. Sherlock was panting heavily and the shack was unpleasantly warm. Sweat clung to his whole body, gathering on his upper lip to mingle with the blood there. Sherlock’s fingers brushed up along the inside of John and he couldn’t believe that he wanted more. Biting down on his lower lip, John hummed, “More, now.” 

 

Sherlock’s long fingers plunged in once, twice more before he relented. “Yes, John.” 

 

Sherlock brought his fingers away and centered his body. Sherlock was on his knees and used one hand to guide his cock into John’s ready entrance. He used his other hand to grip John’s shin; anchoring his movements. John inhaled sharply. 

 

After the initial discomfort, Sherlock dug himself in farther. John willingly took all of him. John’s other leg swung up and stretched out over Sherlock’s shoulder. It allowed Sherlock easier access and he scoot himself up closer. With nothing to hold on to, John’s hands clawed at the sand surrounded their makeshift bed. 

 

A yell wanted to break through his lips but John stopped it. Then he remembered there was no once else to hear him. It was only John and Sherlock- only they existed in the isolated world that was their island. So John did something he never allowed normally. His teeth unclamped from his lower lip and he let the yell he had been holding back rip from his lips. 

 

Sherlock answered with a sharp grunt. He began to pick up speed and John’s hand left the sand to find his cock. Realizing his mistake, John quickly wiped the sand away before he brought his fist back around his erection. John hummed in satisfaction. 

 

Nothing about what they were doing had been calm but it hadn’t been frantic either. Then Sherlock brought himself out till only his tip remained in John and then rocked back in. The next time Sherlock did it, John was ready and he brought his body down hard on Sherlock’s cock. 

 

Sherlock threw back his head and moaned. It was a sound of complete abandonment and it made the hand on John’s erection move faster. After that it was a flurry of motion, heat and friction. John tried to take as much of Sherlock in him as he could and in turn, Sherlock thumped in until he was buried to the hilt. 

 

Sherlock brought his head back down and his narrowed eyes focused on the man laying before him. “God, John if you could only see yourself.” 

 

John’s cheeks flared up. There was a witty retort at the tip of his tongue but John settled for a slight nod of his head and a knowing look. Sherlock didn’t need anymore flattering comments for his inflated ego.

 

The pressure between them continued to build. John couldn’t believe he had lasted as long as he had but there was no longer time to put off the inevitable. The muscles in John’s lower abdomen clinched and he let the orgasm rock through his body. It was almost painful the release that made him shake all over. 

 

He came and John felt the warm liquid on his chest. Sherlock exhaled sharply at the sight. With another thrust, Sherlock rode out his own orgasm. He paused as his whole body tightened and spent itself. 

 

Sherlock didn’t move a muscle. There was an uncertain look on his face. John’s eyes softened and he grabbed for Sherlock’s hand and dragged him down onto his chest. John placed a hard kiss on Sherlock’s sweaty forehead.

 

“You’ve just made me lay down in your come.” Sherlock’s voice wasn’t angry, just the ‘stating the obvious reason that you’re an idiot’ tone. John sighed and pinched Sherlock’s ass. 

 

Sherlock let out a surprised yelp and he frowned. John couldn’t see his expression, but he could feel the muscles moving on Sherlock’s face over his chest. John let out a laugh. “Come on, let’s take a dip in the ocean.” 

 

After making a disgruntled noise, Sherlock nodded against John’s chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always had a love of deserted island love stories ::smut::. Hope you liked it too!   
> Please let me know! I'm really happy with this one.


	10. Splish Splash AU HIGH SCHOOL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keywords: Jackin' off shower voyeurism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rotating POV starting with Sherlock POV.

Sherlock moaned with exasperation as he threw his uniform into his locker. He hated exercise. He hated getting sweaty. Anything that combined them both was bottom on his list of desirable activities. The coach had finally had enough of him skipping out on all physical education and so had made him stay after class. After running laps for an hour, Sherlock was a covered in sweat and his hair was plastered to his forehead. 

 

With only a towel wrapped around him, he made his way to the locker showers. Thankfully, his punishment had been after school so the showers would be free of any leering eyes or unwelcome comments. 

 

Sherlock was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice that a shower head had turned on. He turned the corner to the showers and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the naked body of John Watson. He had his head under the water and was lathering up his short blonde hair with shampoo. 

 

After blinking a few times, Sherlock edged back around and threw his back against the cool tiles of the wall. _God, did he see me?_ Sherlock knew he hadn’t after another few minutes had passed. Sherlock clinched his hands into fists. _Why would he care? This is a public shower...we’re suppose to...to..._ He found it hard to finish the thought. Could he walk into the shower, take off his towel and shower naked with the boy who had been occupying an unnerving amount of his time lately? 

 

They had barely exchanged more than a dozen words in the time that John had entered the school two weeks ago. Still those words had become oddly important to Sherlock even though he refused to admit it to himself. He shook his head trying to clear it. _I’m being completely irrational. I will go in there. Shower off this disgusting sweat, towel off, change and go home._ Content that he had a plan in hand, Sherlock turned back to the shower. 

 

John was still under the water but now with his left arm thrown up against the white tile wall. His other hand was wrapped around his erection and there was no guessing as to what he was doing. Sherlock hid back around the wall. His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure John could hear it. 

 

But the blonde never came out of the shower and after another moment had passed, Sherlock’s curiosity won out and he peeked his eyes back around the corner to catch another glimpse of John.

 

John’s eyes were closed as the water washed over his face and chest, down to his erection and between his open legs. Sherlock found it hard to breath and his own heightening interest began to stir. Sherlock knew it was completely reckless, but the situation was more tempting than the consequences if John caught him. 

 

Sherlock’s towel fell to the floor as his hand wrapped around his half-erection. 

 

Sherlock’s eyes were unblinking as they tried to memorize ever muscle, every curve of John’s body. Sherlock had only vaguely entertained the thought of what John might look like under his uniform. How wrong he had been. John was perfection and Sherlock wanted the image seared into this retina forever. 

 

Sherlock’s hand was slow, making sure that he didn’t orgasm before the boy in the shower did. Sherlock’s mind flitted over who John was thinking about as he pleasured himself. Was it the pretty blonde who sat in front of him in history? Or maybe the brunette that had flirted with him with him after science on Thursday? 

 

Sherlock gritted his teeth. If there was one thing he was certain, it was that the freak who sat behind him in most of his classes was far away from the rugby player’s mind at the moment. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

The water cooled his sweaty skin. It had been a long two hours of extra practice. They had a game on Friday and John wanted his best for his first match at the new school. John knew he was running a risk jacking off in the shower, but he found that he really didn’t care. It had been a long week full of pressure and as the endorphins from exercise still pounded through his veins, John found that he wanted another kind of release. 

 

At first, thoughts of the pretty blonde whom had been talking to flittered through his thoughts. She had a gorgeous hour glass shape. The way her skirt rode up onto her thighs during class. John imaged her letting her long blonde hair free from its ponytail and the way it would be messy after she had taken her top off. 

 

She would be impressed with the way he could unclip her bra with one hand and the other would cup a breast as they were released from their cotton. John breathed out over her ear and she giggled. 

 

John’s cock started to twitch and he grasped it in his hand. He let his hand just linger over it as his cock grew erect in his hand. John sighed into the shower water and threw his arm up to anchor himself against the tile wall. A small smile lifted up his lips and some of the tension in John’s shoulder lessened. 

 

The blonde continued to undress but John’s mind had other plans for him. John began to think of training and games and grades and the erotic vision began to fade. He remembered the training he had just completed and how he had missed the goal. When he had flung his head up in exasperation. That was when his eyes had flickered over to the track. 

 

There had been Sherlock Holmes, running laps under the watchful eye of their coach. Sherlock’s black curls were hanging limp around his head and some of the silky hairs had been clinging to Sherlock’s neck and forehead. Despite the fact that Sherlock always skipped P.E., he hadn’t looked winded at all and had continued to run with only the sweat and a slight pink tint to his cheeks as testament to his exercise. John had smiled at the genius who was finally getting some punishment that he couldn’t talk his way out of for once. 

 

_Sherlock._ He was certainly a mystery. Rude to others, always late to class. The other classmates all teased him but John could see little that deserved such intense hatred. True, he was ‘different’ but still...

 

He had asked one of the guys in his class why Sherlock was so hated, and he had told him that a kid named Victor once dated Sherlock. After a few days, Victor had called Sherlock ‘A crazy ass freak’ in front of the whole class. Sherlock had then proceeded to tell every dirty secret he could about Victor and then he had ripped apart the rest of the class. 

 

Who had a secret crush on whom. 

 

Who cheated on their tests. 

 

Who masturbated while thinking about their teacher. 

 

After that, Sherlock had sported a couple of black eyes and a broken rib. Plus an entire school that would no longer talk to him. Word traveled fast and after the rest of the student body had found out, Sherlock had been ostracized. Although he seemed to care little about his leper status. 

 

_I wonder what he would have said about me. What kind of secrets he would have revealed to the class?_ John could see Sherlock turn his piercing eyes to him. They would scan him up and down and John would feel his entire self bared in front a person he had never had a proper conversation with. 

 

Sherlock had such deep eyes. John wasn’t surprised that they could read between the lines. The blonde girl faded as long hair became short and blue eyes became green. The soft tinkling of laughter grew deeper until it was a dark chuckle. 

 

_John, I know everything about you._ John shivered as the Sherlock in his head stared him down with intensity. _I know who you fantasize about at night. Don’t think I’ve missed the way you look at me. Am I blind? No, it’s so obvious that it’s painful._

 

John gulped. It was all true. While the others wore the uniforms either too loosely or too tightly, Sherlock’s uniform clung to him like it had been tailored to show off his every curve. John had caught himself staring at Sherlock’s ass and he had been horrified at what he had been doing. 

 

After that, he found it harder to ignore. _His long fingers. Those dark curls. Oh, god, that ass._ It was all criminal and now it flooded John’s thoughts at a very awkward time. He tried to push them away but his mind refused to obey him. 

 

_John, what are you doing? Did I give you permission?_ John would turn his head and Sherlock would be there. Having been watching him get himself off in the shower. The Sherlock in his mind walked naked towards him. 

 

_Take your hand off now._ Although it would go against everything John wanted, he would let go. Sherlock would walk up behind him and John would feel Sherlock’s erection pressed up against one ass cheek. There would still be soap on John and Sherlock’s cock would glide effortless against his wet skin. 

 

_Have you been good?_ Sherlock would whisper into his ear. Despite the sound of water, Sherlock’s deep voice would ring in John’s ear. Sherlock’s tongue would dart out and lick at some of the water clinging to John. 

 

_Oh, god._ John would find it difficult to form words. He would rub his ass along that incredible length and be unable to hold back a moan. Sherlock would smack his ass and bit his shoulder. _I asked you a question._

 

Sherlock would be just like that. John felt a shiver run through him as the dirty images continued to flash in his mind. If possible his cock grew even harder. John wanted to take his time and let the fantasy run its course but he realized that his legs wouldn’t support his weight for much longer. 

 

John picked up the slow pace. John bit at his lower lip. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

John’s hand started to move faster and Sherlock mirrored the movement. For once he was actually happy for the sweat because it was acting as a lubricate. However, that was the farthest thought from his mind as Sherlock focused on what John was doing. 

 

Sherlock bit down on his tongue, keeping a moan from escaping his lips. If John found him now, Sherlock had no idea what he would do. He knew it would be safer to finish before John, but Sherlock wanted to see the rugby player climax. Sherlock was frantic at the mere thought of it. 

 

He was slightly afraid at the name that might escape John’s lips when he finally came but it was worth it. Sherlock didn’t utter a sound as he continued to get off while watching John do the same. It had been so long since Sherlock had masturbated, it was normally so tedious, but this...oh, this was far from that. Every cell in Sherlock’s body was on edge and his skin was aflame. His nipples were hard and goosebumps formed on his arms. 

 

_God, this is what it’s really like._ Sherlock had never understood the relationships in the school and how stupid everyone would act about their little crushes. Somehow, he understood a little better now. John moaned and Sherlock’s eyes snapped back into focus. 

 

John was allowing his palm to gaze over the tip of his cock and Sherlock eyed the motion hungrily. _Why can’t that be my hand? My mouth?_ Sherlock knew the reason. Because he was the freak. The outcast. For a moment, Sherlock actually regretted the fact that he had ostracized himself from any normal student interaction. 

 

“Sher...” 

 

Sherlock’s breath caught. _I imagined that. John would never. No one would ever..._ and then John was coming. The come hit the tiles in front of him and John’e entire body shook. 

 

With that image, Sherlock came. He made no attempt to try and block it. A small groan escaped his lips before he could stop himself. Sherlock had never came so hard in his entire life and the force was almost painful. All his muscles unclenched and a warm blanket of contentment covered him. Sherlock wished more than anything that he was in a bed and not in the school locker room. 

 

Sherlock picked his towel off of the floor and wiped at the come on the wall. A shower would have to wait. Now that the orgasm had rocked through his body, a new message replaced the need to come. _I have to leave now! Leave! Now! Now!_

 

With a speed that Sherlock didn’t know he had, he changed back into his uniform. The shower turned off and Sherlock frantically threw his tie over his head. For a second, Sherlock was tempted to act as if he was just arriving in the locker room....but there was no way he could look John in the eye- not after what had just happened. Sherlock shut his locker as quietly as he could and bolted for the door leading to safety. He would examine everything that had happened later in the quiet of his laboratory. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

John walked out into the main locker room. He had a towel hanging loosely around his hips and another he was using to dry his hair. Out of the corner of his eye, John watched as the door leading out of the locker room swung back and forth. 

 

_No one saw me...did they?_

 

“Hello...?” John called out in a low voice. There was no answer but John still did a quick sweep of the locker room with his eyes. When he didn’t see anyone, John made his way to his own locker and proceed to change. 

 

Before John could leave the room, his eyes fell down to a towel bunched up under a bench. Curiosity got the best of him and John bent down and grabbed it. The towel was only slightly wet. John sought out the initials that would be on the towel. 

 

_S.H._

 

John’s blood ran cold at the sight of it. Somehow he wasn’t too surprised. _How much did he see?_ John gulped over the uncomfortable feel of bile that rose in his mouth. Then John’s cheeks burned red. _Oh, god! He saw me!_ The realization thrilled John just as much as it terrified him. 

 

John threw down the towel like it was on fire. He ran through the swing door and refused to give anymore thought to the possibilities of what that towel meant. 


	11. Shooting Star AU GREASERLOCK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There you go, part three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keywords: Outside sex ::penetration:: woot, woot   
> and fluff.

John stared up at the dark expanse of sky. Sherlock had some how managed to ace his astronomy quiz but that still didn’t mean he knew what he was talking about. ‘It was process of elimination, John’ and with that the smaller boy had dragged the greaser out to the local make out spot. 

 

Sherlock had actually giggled when John tried to explain his logic to him. ‘It’s dark and one of the highest spots in town. Therefore, it is perfect for sky gazing.’ John had gotten it into his head that if Sherlock could just _see_ the stars than maybe he could learn to appreciate them a bit more. 

 

They were currently laid out on an old blanket that John had brought with them. They had taken there bikes up to the hill. Despite the exercise, John had shivered in the night air and he now had Sherlock’s leather jacket wrapped around his shoulders. He had been touched by the kind gesture and Sherlock had only grunted in reply to John’s words of thanks. 

 

Sherlock was leisurely eyeing the constellations through John’s small hand telescope. John happily rattled off facts and Sherlock made the right noises when John waited for confirmation. A star shoot across the sky and John gasped. He closed his eyes and made a wish. 

 

“What did you wish for?” John smiled. He had never felt so content in his entire life. If time could stop, he would happily live in the moment of a hundred years.

 

“That we would stop with this needless farce and fuck already.” Sherlock replied in a dead pan voice. 

 

John sputtered and he wondered how he had ever fooled himself into thinking that Sherlock could be romantic...or normal for a moment. It was John’s turn to grunt in discontentment. 

 

“What? You asked for what I wished for.” Sherlock lowered the telescope and turned his head to eye John. Sherlock had his head of John’s stomach and could feel John’s breath picking up and his increased heartbeat. 

 

“I suppose I did.” John answered with another sigh. “But number one- you never tell a wish and two- you should really keep them clean. I mean geez, Sherlock.” John’s hand came up and ruffled at the greaser’s curls. His hair was starting to loosen and John helped the curls become even messier. 

 

Sherlock huffed. “I don’t know why you have to do that so often. I am a _greaser._ Therefore my hair needs to be in pristine slicked back condition at all times.” 

 

John giggled and Sherlock’s head bobbed up and down as his belly shook. Sherlock smiled and John nudged Sherlock’s head upward. The teen lifted his head and bent down to kiss the nerd who had taken up most of his time the last few months. 

 

John hummed in approval as Sherlock’s lips covered his. It had been a trying two months with Sherlock as a boyfriend but an extremely rewarding one too. John had never spent so much leisurely time just kissing. Their tongues met and John’s hands came up to touch Sherlock’s cheek and shoulder. 

 

Sherlock’s skin was always incredibly soft and John wondered if Sherlock could even grow a beard. The teen never even had a five o’clock shadow. Well, that was Sherlock. Never a hair out of place...until he caused something to explode. 

 

At the moment John knew that he was the thing Sherlock wanted to make explode and he was completely fine with it. While it was true that he hadn’t appreciated the way Sherlock had mentioned sex, as soon as he had, John found that he wanted it just as much as Sherlock. 

 

John let his body melt into the cotton blanket underneath him. The air was crisp and he could smell the pine trees surrounding them. It was almost December and John secretly looked forward to his first Christmas with his first boyfriend. 

 

That was what _he_ had wished for...that they at least made it to Christmas. John knew that he would be happy to stay with Sherlock forever but he sometimes fretted how long the genius would be happy with him. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” Sherlock pulled away and placed a light kiss on the corner of John’s mouth. 

 

“Hum? Oh, sorry. I was thinking about how I can’t have one study session with you without it turning into a make out session.” John thread his fingers through Sherlock’s messy locks. 

 

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. “No, you weren’t.” He placed a kiss under John’s eye, lifting up John’s glasses slightly. “Tell me.” 

 

John was thankful for the fact that his heart was already pounding in his chest from their kissing. He licked his lips and closed his eyes hard. _I can’t lie to him or expect him to drop a subject._ John went to open his mouth but no sound came out. 

 

“I know, John.” 

 

John refocused his eyes and looked up at the greaser. Sherlock had an serious look on his face and his eyebrows were knitted together. There was a small frown turning down his lips. “I may...tease you.” The word ‘tease’ came out like a foreign word that Sherlock had never spoken before. 

His eyes soften. “But don’t think for one minute that you don’t matter to me. I...” Sherlock’s forehead scrunched up. He looked surprised by the words that were trying to spill out of his mouth. 

 

John smiled warmly. He wanted to hear those few words but he didn’t want to pressure Sherlock into thinking he had to say them. John’s hand wrapped around the nape of Sherlock’s neck and he pulled the taller teen down for another kiss. 

 

The tension in Sherlock’s face eased and he dipped his lips down to deepen their connection. Sherlock slip the rest of his body over John and straddled the blonde. Sherlock’s long fingers slide up under John’s wool vest and traced a line along the material of his shirt. 

 

A shiver went up John’s spine and he skin on the back of his neck prickled up. John’s hands caressed up and down the smooth arms of the boy on top of him. They kissed lazily just enjoying the weight and security of the other person. Sherlock’s fingers finally grew impatient and they dipped their way below John’s trouser line so they could pull up his shirt. 

 

Warm fingers pressed into the soft contours of John’s hips. Sherlock ground down and John tugged lightly at Sherlock’s white shirt. Sherlock disconnected from John so that he could take his shirt off. John’s hands came to the front of Sherlock’s pale chest and worked their way up, open palmed, so that they covered each of Sherlock’s pecks.

 

Sherlock let out a groan when John’s hands slide back down to undo the button at the top of his jeans. While his left hand undid Sherlock’s jeans, the other palmed the erection that was straining against the denim material. 

 

Sherlock threw his head back and John licked his lips at the sight of so much pale exposed flesh. There wasn’t a scar on him and not a trace of body hair. Sherlock truly was an ethereal creature. John smiled to himself at the unbelievable reality that somehow he had chosen average John above everyone else. 

 

John unzipped Sherlock’s jeans and with one fluid movement pulled the dark haired teen’s erection out of his pants. John’s eyelids lowered until all he could see was Sherlock. John’s thumb flicked over Sherlock’s tip and he was rewarded with him bucking up into his hand. 

 

“God, John.” Sherlock panted out. 

 

John’s own erection was uncomfortable in his trousers. The material was strained to its limits but the sight above him was to gorgeous to ignore. Sherlock rocked his hips again. “Ummmm...” John had vaguely wondered once if he would ever get bored kissing  or groping Sherlock- how wrong he had been. 

 

Sherlock’s hands came down and pressed into John’s erection. John removed his hand from Sherlock to watch as the greaser used one hand to rub against John and the other to wrap around his cock. John bit down on his lower lip. 

 

He continued like that, getting them both off with both hands. “Sherlock, please.” John didn’t think he could hold out much longer even though he was still full clothed. Sherlock let out a deep chuckle and he finally moved to remove John’s binding trousers. 

 

John let out a hiss as Sherlock’s fingers pulled his erection out. Sherlock brought their cocks together and with one hand began to stroke them. John threw his hands up over his head and closed his eyes. 

 

The muscles in his lower abdomen clinched and flared at the skilled touch of Sherlock. Whenever he was with the greaser the whole rest of the world fell away and John loved the fact that it was the two of them. That was all that mattered. A smile curled on John’s lips as he clawed along the blanket dragging the material up to pool around his head. 

 

Sherlock slide up John’s sweater vest and shirt and his hands smoothed along the muscles of John’s lower half. He gently pinched John. “You’re so deliciously smooth, John.” 

 

John bit back a protest. John knew he wasn’t big but he wasn’t as thin as Sherlock either. The greaser had told him once how much he loved the small bit of pudge that covered John’s lower half. John had scoffed at the words and Sherlock’s eyes had flashed dangerously. He had then proceeded to place hicks all over the skin under John’s bellybutton. That had effectively silenced all other complains. 

 

John’s clothes were pulled over his head and Sherlock ducked down to brush his lips along John’s neck and collar bone. John titled his head back exposing more of his neck for Sherlock to touch. He placed open mouth kisses along his skin and gently nipped at John’s shoulder. 

 

John’s hands went up to tug down at Sherlock’s jeans. The taller teen wiggled out of the rest of his clothes and helped John throw off his own. Sherlock hummed in approval and placed a hard kiss on John’s mouth. John laid back down and Sherlock was crouched between his legs. 

 

Sherlock’s hand gripped John and pulled the skin back and forth along his cock. Sherlock’s other hand flitted across the sensitive skin along John’s inner thigh. John’s whole body shuttered at the touch. A shiver rocked through him and goosebumps raised the short hairs on his legs. 

 

“Sherlock...ummmm.” Sherlock had never touched him that way before. It seemed infinitely more intimate than almost all the other touches they had shared. Sherlock’s fingers continued to stroke along John’s thigh. His fingers danced closed and closer to territory they hadn’t explored before. 

Sherlock’s palm came down on John’s thigh and squeezed it. John knew immediately what question he was asking. John’s own hand flew up and his fingers pressed into Sherlock’s wrist. A smile flickered over Sherlock’s lips and he needed no further encouragement. 

 

A finger traced along the high tight skin between John’s thighs. John’s whole body shivered and he released a small gasp. Sherlock continued to stroke with light touches and John’s body pressed down into them. A tip of Sherlock’s finger crept into John and the prone teen gripped onto the blanket under them tighter. 

 

“John. One moment.” 

 

Sherlock scrambled for his jeans and began to look through his right front pocket. John blinked, trying to clear some of the hazy out of his eyes. “Sherlock, did you...?” 

 

Sherlock’s head popped back up and he smiled one of his rare radiant smiles. John blushed at the look. Sherlock finally found what he was searching for and crawled back to John. 

 

Without a word, Sherlock popped open the small bottle and slicked his fingers with the warm liquid. Sherlock’s fingers skated along John’s stomach eliciting a small giggle from the blonde. He swirled down lower and Sherlock’s elegant fingers brushed along the start of John’s erection. 

 

Sherlock warm sticky fingers touched John’s cock; leaving it glistening before he made his way across John’s balls and back down to his tight opening. John bit his lip and tried his hardest not to cry out- the last thing he wanted to happen was to get caught. 

 

After two fingers had slipped into John, Sherlock began to move them in and out. John snaked his legs around Sherlock and dug his heels into Sherlock’s back. As Sherlock plunged into John with one hand, he used the other to touch ever part of the blonde that he could. All John’s hands could do was twist themselves into the blanket underneath them. 

 

“Please Sherlock. I want...I...” Despite what they were doing, John found it embarrassing to actually have the words he wanted to say to cross his lips. 

 

“Say it, John.” Sherlock’s voice was demanding but heavy with need. 

 

“God, Sherlock, I want you inside me.” John barely spoke the words louder than he normally spoke but the words sounded like loud pleads in his ears. 

 

Another finger joined the other two and Sherlock continued to stretch out John before he could do what the other teen asked of him. When Sherlock knew John was ready, he edged closer to John and met his eye. 

 

Their gazes were locked as Sherlock finally pressed his erection into John. The greaser gritted his teeth and slowly worked his way in further. There were a thousand sensations jolting through John but he could find no words to convey them. His hand shot out and sought Sherlock. 

 

“I want to touch you.” John’s fingers strained to touch more of Sherlock. 

 

Sherlock hummed and his hands reached for John’s arms to lift him up. He brought up the smaller teen and John slide up easier, so that they were facing each other; with Sherlock sitting indian style with John’s legs behind him. 

 

John’s mouth crashed down onto Sherlock’s as the thrust down onto the greaser’s cock. A moan escaped from Sherlock’s mouth, only to be swallowed by John’s. The energy between them became frantic as they thrust up and down. John’s cock sweep over Sherlock’s tight stomach muscles- easily moving from the lubrication that Sherlock had put on it earlier. 

 

John’s teeth brushed along Sherlock skin. He kissed at the bow of a mouth and drew back so that he could suck at the soft skin along his jaw and ear. Sherlock tilted his head back and his fingers dragged along John’s back. 

 

John began to move faster. John’s hands laced through Sherlock’s curls and tugged at the black thick hair. Sherlock’s own breathing became labored and he knew that he couldn’t last much longer. 

 

“God, Sherlock...I think I’m going to...” The words had barely left John’s mouth before he came. The liquid shot up and covered both of their chests. Sherlock thrust in deeper. John whispered into Sherlock’s ear and the next moment the taller teen was coming. Sherlock let out a straggled sound. His whole body had never released so hard before and for a moment there was nothing but him and John. 

 

John’s hand palmed Sherlock’s cheek and he placed a short kiss on Sherlock’s slack mouth. “I love you.” 

 

Sherlock’s whole body went ridged. John’s head began to flirt from side to side and he started to stutter. “That’s not what I meant to say! Oh, fuck. I’ve ruined it all, haven’t I? I didn’t mean...”

 

Sherlock’s head tiled to one side as both of his hands flew up to both sides of the John’s face to stop the nervous movement of the blonde. “You didn’t mean it?” 

 

Unable to move his head, John closed his eyes to shut out the intense stare coming from the greaser. “I mean...I _do_ mean it...but I didn’t mean to _say_ it.” 

 

Sherlock’s finger flew to John’s lips shushing him. John’s eyes flew up from surprise. 

 

“I hope you mean it, because,” Sherlock paused for a moment. His eyes grew soft and his whole body relaxed, “I love you too.” 

 

John’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. His arms flew up and he hugged Sherlock as tightly as he could. Sherlock’s hands gripped John in return and held on to the small teen. 

 

“Don’t think this gets you out of studying for that astronomy test.” 

 

Sherlock chuckled and nuzzled his nose into the crock of John’ neck. “Yes, I know.” 

 

John smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will totally write a second part to the High School AU! :D   
> ...I can't believe it but I've even been thinking about that genderswap AU, huh.


	12. Lilies AU FLORIST SHOP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John delivers flowers at a local men apparel store that Sherlock works at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot stairway sex!   
> Keyword: blowjob   
> ::fuck yeah::

 

John ducked his head behind the vase of lilies as he carried them up to the fifth floor of the shopping mall. Many of the clothing stores in the building ordered flowers on Thursdays and they had chosen John Watson’s flower shop. He had opened it after coming home from the war. His sister, Harriet, helped whenever she was sober enough too. 

 

Unfortunately she never seemed to be sober enough to deliver flowers after Girl’s Night at the local pub had started. Thankfully there was a lift, so even with his limp, there really wasn’t any issues making the delivers. 

 

Except for one man. He worked at the man’s apparel counter and John could feel the other man’s eyes on him. All the man behind the counter ever offered was a “Good day” but the voice always made John weak in the knees. The dark man’s voice was like satin and was deeper than anything John had ever heard before. The suit he wore was top of the line and the shirt always looked strained against his incredibly wide chest. John ached to touch it. 

 

John would offer a mumbled greeting but the small exchange was enough to leave him flustered for hours. He hated how it made him feel but no matter how hard he tried, there was no stopping how his mind wanted to react. 

 

John made his way to the main desk like he always did but a deep voice called out to him and stopped him in his tracks. The tall man who was always behind the counter was making his way towards him. John’s eyes flitted over his long lithe figure. If possible, the man was even more gorgeous when he was moving. 

 

“Sam is out today. I can sign for that.” The taller man reached out his long fingers and grabbed for the vase. His fingers flitted over John’s skin and John pulled back like he had been burned. He dropped the receipt and cursed under his breath. 

 

Sherlock clicked his tongue and smiled. “Such language in a gentlemen’s store.” John licked his lips and bent down to pick up the sheet of paper. John hoped it would also block the blush that was covering his cheeks. _This can’t possibly get any worse._ John fretted with the paper. 

 

He mumbled an apology and waited for the taller man to place the vase of lilies at its customary place. Sherlock flashed another dazzling smile as he pulled out a pen and signed for the flowers. 

 

John bowed his head, said thanks and limped as fast as he could to the lift. He jabbed at the down button and kept his eyes facing forward. He could feel the other man’s eyes on his back and he refused to turn back, no matter how tempting it was. 

 

The lift chimed open and John dashed in. He crushed the ground level button. His eyes caught the other man’s in the mirrored walls. The black curly hair man winked at him. John’s cheeks burned crimson as the lift doors closed. 

 

John’s eyes moved down to the receipt. 

 

It was signed ‘Sherlock Holmes’ 

______________________________________________________________________

 

It was another Thursday and Harriet was watching the shop. John bounced from foot to foot as he reached the fifth floor to men’s apparel. Now that the man had a name, John found him harder to forget. At random times, John would wonder what kind of man Sherlock was...what he liked- 

 

John shook his head. Now was _not_ the time to have thoughts like that. The lift was about to open and the last thing he needed on his mind was the thought of that perfect lush mouth around his...

 

*Ding* 

 

The lift opened and John released a breath. Sherlock was at his normal spot and John offered him an unsure smile. John felt as if all his thoughts were plastered on his face and Sherlock was reading every single one of them. It was like he was under a microscope. 

 

The other man was in, so he handed the vase over to Sam and got his signature. John’s eyes wandered over to the were Sherlock had been standing but the other man was gone. John tried to ignore the disappointment he felt as he got into the lift. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

John gritted his teeth in annoyance. How can a lift in a major retailer be broken? But broken it was, so John had to take the stairs. _Well it is before working hours._ John rolled his eyes. He didn’t care! Walking up five levels of stairs was bloody hell on his bad leg. 

 

He finally hobbled his way up to the last story and he was shocked to see a figure there. Sherlock was standing with his back leaning against the door leading to the main building. He was smoking a cigarette. Smoke wafted up as he exhaled. John was transfixed by the sight. 

 

Sherlock’s eyes opened and smiled when he saw John. He extinguished the cigarette against the wall. “Good day, John.” 

 

“How do you know my name?” There were other questions swirling around his mind but this one seemed the safest to ask. 

 

Sherlock took a few steps forward until he was standing right in front of John. John took in a deep breath and was flooded with the smell of expensive cologne and the sweet smell of smoke. 

 

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed and John was vaguely reminded of a cat stalking its prey. He dipped his head down and his mouth was dangerously close to John’s ear. “It’s on your name tag.” The taller man’s finger went up and danced along the tag. 

 

John tried to keep his voice even but his whole body felt like it was on fire. He never dreamed he would be so close to the man he had been fantasizing about for weeks. “Yeah, forgot about that.” He shifted his weight to escape but Sherlock hand flung out and trapped John against the wall. 

 

John’s mouth grew dry. He swallowed hard. Sherlock breathed in deep. 

 

“So, John,” Sherlock’s breath warmed the skin along John’s neck. The florist gripped the vase in his hands tighter. “am I right?” 

 

John’s eyes scrunched up. He blinked in confusion. “What?” 

 

Sherlock let out a dark chuckle. It sent a shiver up John’s spine. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. You’re curious about me. Yet you’ve chosen not to voice your interest. Why?” 

 

John let out a shaky laugh. “Me and you? Me have a chance with you? Personally I don’t like setting myself up for failure.” John couldn’t believe the words tumbling out of his mouth but they were all true. How could he stand a chance against someone like Sherlock? It was insane! _I guess I’ll just have to have Harriet make the delivers here from now on...or maybe I could hire that woman who came in last week. Mary was her name._

 

John jolted back to reality as Sherlock’s hand flitted along the edges of his apron. “Why is that so ridiculous, John?” 

 

John licked his lips again. _Christ, what does he want from me?_

 

“Because! Have you looked in a mirror lately?” He wanted to sound pissed off but his voice came out strangled. Was it the stupid man wish to humiliate him completely? Fine, John Watson could care less. “You, and your posh ass. Do you feel better now? Have I significantly busted your ego enough for today? Now let me go!” John tried to wiggle his way out from in between Sherlock and the stairwell wall. 

 

Without warning, Sherlock’s lips were pressed with a crushing force onto John’s. There was a moment where John wanted to fight against it but he quickly ignored that impulse for the far more risker one. John wanted to touch Sherlock but he still had a blasted vase of lilies in one hand and a receipt in another. John let the piece of paper slip from one hand but kept his grip on the expensive flowers. 

 

He allowed the free hand to rest on Sherlock’s front. John felt the smooth expensive material under his rough fingers. Everything about Sherlock screamed money and class, John had no idea what Sherlock was thinking kissing the florist in the stairwell of his work place. 

 

All other sane thoughts were forgotten as Sherlock’s tongue slipped into his mouth. The kiss had been awkward at first- mostly teeth but soon it evolved into hot caresses and it felt as if Sherlock was trying to drink in every part of him. 

 

John was still pinned against the wall. His erection was pressing up against his jeans and he knew there was no way that Sherlock couldn’t feel it brushing up against his leg. John tried to shift so that his erection would be less obvious. Suddenly, Sherlock gripped him and moved him so that he could fully feel Sherlock’s own cock straining against the material of his expensive trousers. 

 

John let out a moan and rubbled up against the other man. “Oh, god. Sherlock.” There he had said it. John waited for Sherlock to pull away but the dark haired man only kissed John harder. 

 

John groaned as his hand worked its way up to touch Sherlock’s neck. The other man’s skin was incredibly smooth. John’s hand held onto his neck and sought out the pulse near his jaw. John was happy to feel its erratic beat under his fingers. 

 

Sherlock let out a chuckle. “What are you doing, John?” Sherlock kissed the side of John’s mouth. 

 

“Just wondering if I’m the only one being effected by this...encounter.” 

 

Sherlock snorted. “Obviously.” 

 

Sherlock’s tongue grazed along John’s jaw. John bit his lower lip. “I find you fascinating. I want to know more about you. Let me know you, John.” 

 

Sherlock moved his hands and lifted the vase from John’s hands. He placed the vase on the ground and straightened back up to look John in the eye. 

 

“I can’t imagine...why?” John knew he was pressing the matter but he felt an urgent need to know. It just didn’t make any sense. 

 

“Because. What would make you stay, John? What words do you want to hear? All I can offer is that I’m attached to you. Isn’t that enough?” Sherlock’s eyes twinkled evilly. 

 

John swallowed hard. “Oh, god. Yes, it’s enough.” 

 

Sherlock’s lips crashed back down. They kissed until John’s lips were swollen and the bulge in his jeans was becoming incredibly uncomfortable. John didn’t want to end what was happening between them, but John didn’t think he could hold out much longer. “I...I have other delivers I have to make.” 

 

Sherlock’s hand moved down and cupped over John’s erection. “Is this the ‘delivery’ you need to make? I believe I can help you with this one.” Without another word, John’s apron has been pushed aside and Sherlock’s elegant fingers were zipping open his jeans. 

 

“Fuck...”

 

Sherlock smirked. “Language, John. We are gentlemen, aren’t we?”

 

Sherlock crouched down on his knees and with one fluid movement, John was in his mouth. John bit back another curse as his hand gripped Sherlock’s shoulder. John wanted to brush his hands through the dark curls but had a feeling that business man would not want his hair ruffled. 

 

John threw his head back and tried to even out his breathing. Sherlock’s tongue was quick and flitted along John’s cock. John’s head finally lolled back down and the sight before him made him hold his breath. 

 

It was so elegant and so incredibly filthy. Sherlock’s cupid mouth was taking in the whole length of him. There wasn’t a hair out of place and the smell of sex and cologne mixed in his nostrils. Another moan escapes from John and he can hear Sherlock laugh around him. 

 

Sherlock’s hand comes up to cup one of John’s balls. He tugs at it softly and John’s grip on Sherlock’s shoulder tightened. The darker man’s tongue twirled and licked along the slit of John. Pre-come and saliva covered John’s cock. Sherlock tugged at John one more time before he plunged his mouth around John. 

 

Before he can stop himself, John’s hands fly up to grip Sherlock’s head. Sherlock hummed his approval and John began to move Sherlock’s head. When the crouching man offered no complaint, John started to thrust up into the warm mouth. 

 

Sherlock let out another deep groan. It rumbled around John’s cock and he thrust deeper, so that the top of his cock bumped up against the roof of Sherlock’s hot mouth. John’s hips gain a steady rhythm and soon he was fucking Sherlock’s mouth. 

 

John gripped his eyes shut- trying to hold out before his orgasm overtook him. The muscles in John’s abdomen began to clinch and he knew he was quickly reaching the pinnacle. John thrust up again. His hands pushed against Sherlock’s head but to only push away. “Sherlock...I’m....” 

 

Despite the warning, Sherlock held onto John tighter. John let out a groan and buried his cock deeper into Sherlock’s greedy mouth. With one more fast movement, John was coming. John’s fingers dug into dark curls and he groaned as every drop was swallowed by the man on his knees. 

 

With one final lick, Sherlock placed John back into his jeans and zipped them back up. John’s whole body was pressed up against the wall, more relaxed than he had been in almost a year. 

 

Sherlock got to his feet with the receipt for the flowers in one hand. With a smirk, Sherlock took out his pen and signed the sheet. John’s mouth tried to form words but they refused to come out. 

 

Sherlock kissed the side of John’s mouth as he placed the signed form in John’s apron pocket. “I can’t wait to see you next week.” Sherlock turned, picked up the vase and with a wink, walked through the door leading to the main shop. 

 

John stood in shocked silence. A bewildered smile covered his features. John had no idea what had just happened but damn, he couldn’t wait for next week. John’s limp was surprisingly absent as he made his way down the stairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freakin' love totally sexy Sherlock seducing John. I mean really...I love it. So fuckin' hot!   
> Please review >


	13. Bridging the Distance AU HIGHSCHOOL Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is the request to all the answers for AU highschool Johnlock to get together. I love how much you guys wanted to get together! They really are cute. Lusting after each other in secret. ::wink:: 
> 
> P.S. So this is the second part to the High School AU splish splash, but you ::kinda:: don’t need to read the other one, although I do suggest it. 
> 
> P.S.S. This is rotating POV again, starting with Sherlock. 
> 
> P.S.S.S Somehow this developed into a kink with dirty talk. I just imagine them just speaking completely filth to one another. 
> 
> KEYWORD: Dirty Talk

Sherlock threw a basketball into the huge basket where the others were kept. He had had to attend P.E. and it had been one of the worst experiences of Sherlock’s short life. The storage room was dark, and class was over; so Sherlock let the memory wash over him with renewed horror. 

 

He had never known that he and John shared the same P.E. class. Maybe it would have motivated him to attend but after having to recite the periodic table so that he wouldn’t get a hard-on had made the class even less enjoyable. 

 

Naturally the other boys had teased him but John had remained mysteriously quiet. Even when the other boys had tried to get John to join in with the mocking, John had made a disgusted face and turned away. 

 

Sherlock didn’t know what it had meant and it made Sherlock’s heart do odd little flops. Soon Sherlock wished that John _had_ been rude to him, then it would have been easier to snuff out his growing feelings for the rugby player.

 

They had still exchanged few words but after that afternoon in the shower room, Sherlock could think of little else when he allowed his mind to wonder...and wonder it did. Sherlock had already had John in every classroom. He had fantasized about every sex position he could think and then a few more. 

 

At first, Sherlock had hoped that the obsession would run its course and that would be the end of it. However with the sight of John’s naked body jerking off seared into his brain it wasn’t going to happen any time soon. 

 

Sherlock bit at his lower lip as his cock twitched at the thought. He ground the heel of his hand into his forehead...demanding the images to stop plaguing him. John in that small P.E. uniform. Who allowed uniforms to be that short? God! What did they expect him to think?...

 

With John’s blonde hair waving in the gentle breeze and while he ran. 

 

John’s long graceful legs, so unlike his own. 

 

Sherlock pounded the heel of hand in harder. _This has got to stop!_

 

Sherlock barely had a moment to register what was happening as the door to the storage room opened. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

John bit back a swear. Naturally all of his ‘mates’ left him to clean up the mess. He had two soccer balls and they needed to go in the storage room. He had made his way towards the small room...not looking around to see where Sherlock had gone...he would never do that. 

 

Okay, maybe he would. 

 

John frowned at the memory of how his classmates had treated Sherlock. No wonder the teen didn’t want to attend P.E. Who would, when insults and crude comments were being flung your way? The ignorant wanker of a coach hadn’t even tried to stop it. 

 

Well, at least he hadn’t joined in. _But you should have stopped it!_ John shook his head trying to blot out the annoying little voice. Although the once small voice as gotten louder and louder as the class had progressed. _I’m such a coward. I haven’t even been able to ask him about whether or not he saw me in the shower._

 

For what seemed like the millionth time, John rolled his eyes. _What am I suppose to say? Hey, Sherlock. I know we’ve barely exchanged a dozen words, but I was wondering...did you see me wanking it in the shower? Oh, and by the way, I was thinking about you while I was doing it. Wanna fuck?_

 

His cock stirred at the thought and John closed his eyes. _God, this is torture._

 

After his shower fantasy, John had started to ignore the girls who were trying to get his attention. It had started off as small unnoticeable cues but soon even the blonde who had been perusing him had started to ignore him. He really was pathetic. 

 

John sighed as he reached the door labeled ‘Storage’. He juggled the two balls on top of each other as he opened the door. It was dark inside and the only light was coming from a small window high up. John heard the door slam behind him, followed by a gasp. Except he hadn’t gasped. John squinted in the darkness. 

 

It was Sherlock. 

 

Sherlock staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes were huge and there was a blush creeping up over his cheeks. John could feel his own. The rugby player opened his mouth to say something, anything when the soccer balls he had been holding escaped his grasp. 

 

They bounced on the ground. The sound was like a thunderclap in the silence. It broke both boys from their trance and John scooped down to grab one of the balls. Sherlock did the same. They stood up at the same time, closer to each other than before. 

John heard his breath hitch. The answering swallow from Sherlock seemed to echo throughout the room. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

_Shit, shit, shit._ The last thing he had wanted was to be stuck in a tiny room with John. Well maybe he...no! This was bad- really bad. Sherlock could smell the sweat and grass on John. It was wafting off of him in waves and Sherlock felt his resolve weaken at every breath. 

 

_He knows. He has to know. No! This can’t be happening._ Sherlock tried to still his breath but if it wasn’t his quickening breath then John was sure to notice his increased heart rate. His whole body was going to give him away and John would know everything. 

 

_This is completely irrational. John doesn’t realize anything. He’s normal. He’s average._ Sherlock just had to convince himself of that lie for another few minutes that was all. Sherlock opened his mouth and with as much calm as he could said, “Hello.” 

 

“Sherlock.” John eyed him curiously. He looked like he wanted to add more but he wasn’t sure if he should. 

 

After another moment, Sherlock managed to break their eye contact and throw the soccer ball in with the others. With a minute nod, Sherlock made his way towards the door and to safety. 

 

His hand was on the knob. When John called out. “Stop.” The one word was barely whispered but it was enough to stop Sherlock where he stood. The genius tensed and his whole body hummed with nervous energy. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

The word slipped out of John’s mouth before he could stop it. Where he wanted to go...John knew what he wanted to ask but his blood turned cold at the thought of it. 

 

John licked his lips slowly. 

 

_It’s the perfect time. No one knows we’re in here. If Sherlock calls me a pervert I can deny it. No one will believe him anyway. I can do this. I have to know!_

 

“Did you see me?” If Sherlock had, then he would need no context other than that. John held his breath. His grip onto the soccer ball so tight that his knuckles strained against his skin. 

 

Sherlock didn’t turn away from the door. His back was tense and John began to regret his words. True they weren’t friends but he felt as if he was damaging any future of a friendship they might have because he couldn’t let the thought go. 

 

He had to know. 

 

Sherlock still said nothing and John was about to apologize for his odd question when Sherlock spoke. 

 

“Yes.”

 

It was amazing how much was being conveyed with so few words. So, Sherlock had seen him. What did that mean? What did he want to know? What were the right words to say? 

 

Too many words were flinging around in his head. John couldn’t think straight. That was the only way he could have said what he said next. 

 

“I was thinking of you.” 

______________________________________________________________________

 

“I was thinking of you.” 

 

Sherlock knew it was a medical impossibility but his heart stopped beating at the sound of those words. _I was thinking of you. I was thinking of you._ It rang in Sherlock’s head like a chant. The words repeating again and again in a frantic loop. 

 

His grip on the door knob tightened. 

 

He still had two options. Either open the door and walk out and pretend like nothing had happened or turn around and face whatever John was offering him. 

 

The first choice would be the easiest. Sherlock hated easy. 

 

Sherlock let go of the door handle and turned around to face John. The rugby player was wearing a surprisingly neutral face. It made Sherlock smile. John wanted to play games? He could do that. 

 

Sherlock took one step forward. There was only four steps separating them. “Tell me.” 

 

John swallowed hard. Sherlock waited. His eyes never leaving John’s. 

 

“I was thinking about you joining me in the shower. You caught me...and you told me to stop.” John’s voice was low. Sherlock could hear the uncertainty in it. Underlining that uncertainty was something much darker. 

 

Sherlock took another step forward. “Tell me, John.” 

 

John’s eyes flickered. His tongue came out and lingered on his lips. “You...” John closed his eyes. 

 

Sherlock closed the distance between them. Without a single part of their bodies touching, Sherlock leaned forward so that his mouth was only inches from John’s ear. “John, you need to tell me.” 

 

John dropped the soccer ball. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

The words reverberated deep in his chest. He should tell Sherlock he didn’t remember...but how could he? John had replayed that one fantasy a thousand different times. All differing slightly but none more potent than the original. 

 

“You came up behind me and...and your cock-” John’s words caught in his throat as Sherlock breathed out. The warm breath covered his ear and the right side of his face. Goosebumps pricked up over his arms. John felt his nipples harden. “Your cock, it slide up and down my ass. You won’t let me touch myself.” 

 

He had never gotten so hard so quickly in his entire life. All Sherlock had to do was lean in just a few inches and he would be able to feel John’s full cock. It was so bloody obvious in his thin gym uniform. Still, none of that seemed to matter. He was in a darkened room explaining his most popular fantasy to the person who played center stage in it. 

 

Sherlock’s hand traced up and glided along John’s neck. It was a gentle touch and his hand fit perfectly at the sensitive part were neck met shoulder. “I want to hear everything, John. Tell me everything.” 

 

John had to will himself not to lean closer towards the deep voice. This was the most words they had ever exchanged at one time and John had never realized just how deep Sherlock’s voice was. It made his whole body want to shiver. 

 

“You rubbed up against me and you, you used your hand to jerk me off while you rutted against my ass.” There he had said it. There was no way the encounter could become anymore embarrassing. It was out there and they only thing he had to wait for was to see how Sherlock would react. 

 

Sherlock’s head dipped lower and John shivered as a tongue darted out and traced along this lobe. “God, John. Do you have any idea what you do to me? If I had known, I would have walked right in there and fucked you up against that wall instead of jacking off by myself.” 

 

John’s body tensed. Had he heard right? “You what?”

 

“You heard me,” Sherlock’s tongue twisted along his skin. John’s hand shot out and grabbed at the front of Sherlock’s sweaty shirt, “I watched you. I imagined it was me touching you. I got off watching you fist your cock. Fuck, John. You were gorgeous.” 

 

A small moan escaped from John. “I want you so bad, Sherlock. I ache with it. God, I can’t get you out of my mind. I want to fuck you so bad. God, Sherlock. What you do to me.” 

 

“Show me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a part 3 next...so much for one-shots! 
> 
> ...so holy crap this chapter is hot...I was turning myself on while writing it. 
> 
> Our boys are naughty, aren't they? 
> 
> Any suggestions on what you want them to do next? Tell me!!


	14. Roses AU FLOWERSHOP Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How have my one-shots become...not one-shots? Oh, well. Here's part 2 and once again you really don't need to read part one if you don't want too. 
> 
> Sherlock's POV 
> 
> Keyword: Mutual handjob

Sherlock released a long sigh. It was bound to be another boring day in the shop. He really needed to get another job but they allowed him to take time off when he wanted to help the police or work on his experiments, so he stayed. 

 

It was just another way to fill a gap in information that he needed. If he had only known about the specific tailor that the criminal had frequented than Sherlock could have caught him hours earlier. After that he had made it his mission to gather as much information about suits. 

 

He had been working there for two weeks and he was ready to quit. The minatory of it was slowly rotting his brain to pieces. Then ordinary John Watson had walked in to the shop. 

 

It was intrigued just to see a new face and before he knew he was obsessing over every detail about the man. By the next week, he was craning his head to check the lift more often than he should. _It’s just a distraction. Really, I don’t want to see John. I just want to check my deductions. Yes._ Sherlock straightened his tie and slicked down his hair. 

 

The lift opened and Sherlock kept his eyes averted. Even without looking, Sherlock knew it was him. John was getting the signature from Sam. Sherlock held his breath and as John passed by and breathed out a relaxed, “Good day.” 

 

John turned to face him. The florist’s face when light pink and he mumbled a reply back. Sherlock was slightly off put by the less than formal reply and tried his best to forget the odd florist. 

 

Who was a retired solider. 

 

Who walked with a limp. 

 

Who had soft blonde hair only beginning to grow out from its military cut. 

 

Sherlock bit at his inner lip. _Damn._ With no where else to go his brain could only concentrate on John. He had already figured out all the information he needed about suits days before, yet he was hesitant to leave the job. He had to see John just one more time. John with all his unknown factors. How little he knew about the man. Sherlock counted the days down to the next week. 

 

Thursday morning came like it always did, with only one exception. Sam was out for the day and the golden opportunity had finally arrived. Sherlock obsessively checked his suit to make sure that not a single seam was out of place. 

 

The lift opened and Sherlock looked unconcerned. 

 

John passed him was a mumbled greeting. 

 

“Sam is out today. I can sign for that.” Sherlock reached for the vase and made sure that his skin would touch John. The smaller man flinched back and dropped the receipt. The ex-solider let loose a very colorful comment. Instantly his cheeks burned in embarrassment.  

 

Sherlock smiled, wolfishly. “Such language at a gentlemen’s store.” 

 

Sherlock watched in fascination as John’s tongue darted out to slide across his lower lip. Before he would lose his cool demeanor, Sherlock turned around to place the vase in its customary spot. This also gave John the time he needed to regain his composer. 

 

As he signed for the flowers, Sherlock made sure to flash a dazzling smile at John. Sherlock tried not to let out a chuckle as the florist made a bumbling retreat. _He really is interesting and next week its going to become even more so._

 

Sherlock groaned when he realized he now had another week he had to work at the store. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

Sherlock licked his lips at the remembrance of John’s cock between them. The week before held up to everything Sherlock had wanted it to be. John had tried to keep his cool, treating him like something fragile, but Sherlock had managed to break through that facade and see the man within. A man who was not afraid to take what he wanted. 

 

As he waited in the stairwell for John he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. After his third cigarette, Sherlock began to text Lestrade to see if their were any interesting cases. Sherlock had arrived a lot earlier than he had needed too. _But not because I want to see him._ Sherlock really didn’t believe it but the words comforted him. 

 

Sherlock smiled at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. He slipped his mobile into his inner jacket pocket and slicked back his hair. Sherlock’s heartbeat picked up at the thought of John’s fingers raking though it; taking him and his hair apart from their normally controlled manner. 

 

John appeared and Sherlock kept his impassive mask in place. John flashed him a shy smile. He placed the flowers on the landing and made his way towards Sherlock. John’s hand lingered on Sherlock’s front. 

 

“Hi.” 

 

It brought a smile to Sherlock’s lips. He hoped this was the way that they would greet each other from now on; with a calm confidence. “Hi, John.” 

 

Without skipping another beat, John tilted his head up and connected with Sherlock’s waiting mouth. John tasted like coffee and Sherlock could smell a hint of mint from the soap he had showered with. The smells were now familiar and warm and they caused Sherlock to deepen the kiss. 

 

John made a pleasant moaning sound as he told Sherlock’s tongue in his mouth. Their kisses had been lined with a nervous energy before. Now there was only the growing familiarity, and the promise of what was to come. 

 

John traced his mouth away from Sherlock’s and began to leave a hot trail of kisses along his jawline. Sherlock tilted his head up and John licked his way around the taller man’s adam apple. 

 

Sherlock’s fingers fisted the material at John’s back. The cotton shirt felt rough between his fingers. That was John. He was silk while the John was cotton- where posh met a man who was better than that. Because John _was_ better than that. He didn’t need expensive clothes and fine tailored suits to catch the attention of others. 

 

Sherlock hummed deep in his chest and John let out a giggle as the sound tickled his lips. “John, don’t make me wait any longer.” 

 

John stopped for a moment. Sherlock knew he hadn’t been the only one thinking about their encounter and John seemed to have more he wanted to add. John nibbled gently at Sherlock’s neck before saying, “I want to see you today, too. Let me watch you, Sherlock.” 

 

Sherlock nodded his head and was rewarded with John placing an open mouth kiss on the side of his neck. John’s hand flew down to Sherlock’s waiting erection. Although he had been expecting it, he had not thought John would act so quickly. Sherlock released a hiss of air. John let out a satisfied moan. 

 

With his eyes closed, Sherlock allowing the sweet friction of John’s hand sliding up and down the front of his trousers engulf him. He had been fine with only getting John off again. It was all fine. But if John wanted to be a more willing participate, then who was he to say no? 

 

John’s head dropped to Sherlock’s shoulder. He could feel the warm breath of the smaller man come out in puffs; lighting up his skin. Soon John’s other hand was seeking out Sherlock’s trouser buttons. Sherlock brought his hands down to cup John’s ass. There wasn’t a part of the smaller man that wasn’t compact and strong muscle. 

 

Sherlock smiled. _There is so much to him that can be hidden behind an apron and a well placed vase of flowers._ All other thoughts were silenced as John’s hand dipped into his trousers and brought his cock out of his pants. 

 

John’s thumb pressed against the slit of Sherlock’s erection. His only response was to grind into the hand that was littered with calluses. John let out a satisfied sound. Sherlock realized how one-sided the exchange was becoming. He removed one hand from John’s ass and brought it around to between them. John backed his hips away so that Sherlock would have more room to push aside his apron. 

 

John’s movements were unhurried as Sherlock undid the buttons and zipper of John’s jeans. The florist’s own erection was pressing up against his pants and Sherlock slide his palm along the soft material. John’s hand slowed for a moment, lost in the feeling his own body was receiving. 

 

John brought his hips forward and pressed the straining material against Sherlock. The taller man loosened his grip and began to grind his hips into the warmth. His hand slide back into place long enough to slide John’s pants down to expose him. John brought his mouth back to Sherlock’s and their tongues glided along each other. 

 

They started an erratic rhythm of thrusting and grinding. There was nothing elegant about their movements. Tongues clashed up against each other and hands tugged and groped along fabric. Sherlock began to desperately wish he could take John home. _Do I want to take it that far?_ A romp in the stairway at his “workplace” was a far cry from taking John back to his flat. 

 

...Still John would look sinfully delicious once he was fully undressed. Although his cock was getting the friction it needed, the rest of his body wanted to press up against the naked flesh of John. Sherlock wondered absently what John’s last name was. 

 

John’s hand slide up between them and grabbed at both of their taunt erections. Sherlock let a moan escape his lips as John’s thumb once again played along his head. Only this time, John used the pre-come gathering there to slick them down. His hand glided back up to use his own to mingle with Sherlock’s. 

 

“John.” The name was mumbled along hot skin as John’s hand began to move faster. Sherlock tried to not press up too hard. He didn’t want to break the steady rhythm that John was keeping, but Sherlock didn’t want to draw it out. His body sought release and that’s what he wanted. 

 

Sherlock moved his hips faster without thrusting too hard. John panted harder. “Impatient, aren’t we?” 

 

Sherlock bit at John’s lower lip. It was already swollen from their kissing and it was plump between his teeth. Sherlock was tempted to bit down harder but stopped. “I never said I was a patient man.”

 

“Somehow I’m not surprised.” Sherlock didn’t need to see the smirk. It was clear in John’s tone. _Oh, John._ He was definitely everything and more than Sherlock had hoped he would be. 

 

Now wasn’t the time to think about that though. Sherlock plunged his tongue forward with renewed fervor. John’s hand moved faster, although he tried his best to not loss his grip. Sherlock’s hand wrapped over John’s and together they were able to gain the friction they needed. 

 

Even though John’s hand was smaller it fit under Sherlock’s perfectly. The detective/shopkeep did not care to think about how well they fit together. How well John might fit in his life outside of the small world they had created between each other once a week. Normally that thought would cause him disquiet, instead it made Sherlock’s blood pump hotter. 

 

John let out a small cry as Sherlock’s hand twisted their hands roughly around their joined cocks. “I’m...” John didn’t need to say anymore. With one fluid movement, Sherlock grabbed for the handkerchief folded politely in his breast pocket. John came with a shutter and a cry. Sherlock covered both of them and in the next instant he joined John. 

 

A wave hit him and Sherlock rode the crest of his orgasm. The world stilled and there was only him and John. He had had orgasmed many times with others in the past, but Sherlock had never felt such a disconnection to the rest of the world. It was a rare occurrence when Sherlock’s mind could stop moving and could just focus itself in the moment. 

 

Sherlock’s brain started to race with what he could say to make John stay longer. _I could invite him out to dinner?_ Sherlock’s insides cringed at the thought. Unconsciously his grip tightened on the smaller man. John made no move to back away, still Sherlock knew it was only a matter of time. John was still basking in the afterglow; a loose ball of spent energy. How much longer would John be satisfied with just their weekly rendez-vous? 

 

Suddenly his mobile let out one small beep. It was Lestrade. There was a case. Sherlock’s blood roared in his ears. With a pleasant flush, he cleared his throat. “John, would you care to accompany me on my other job?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you want a part 3! :D


	15. Where it all began AU HS prt. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rotating POV starting with John. 
> 
> Once again, you really don't need to read the other parts. 
> 
> So many good ideas you guys! I promise I want to write all of them.
> 
> Keywords: Shower masturbation, fingering and just general smut

The warm water felt like ice against John’s hot skin. His entire body was humming with nervous anticipation. The last words Sherlock’s had whispered at him still rung in his ears: 

 

_You’re going to walk out this room and go to the showers. You’re going to get naked and  you’re going to start touching yourself. When I arrive, I want you to be just as hard as you were when I first saw you. Do you understand?_

 

John had barely been able to breath out the word “yes”. It had been nearly impossible to walk to the showers with the hardest erection he had ever had. John let out a soft moan as he rubbed his hand along his length.

 

Although Sherlock had told him to touch himself, there was no way John could do it and last until Sherlock showed up. For one terrifying moment, John wondered if Sherlock _would_ show up. But John quickly chased away the thought; he trust the other teen. 

 

John closed his eyes and tried to shut out the rest of the world till Sherlock arrived. _This is so incredibly ridiculous. You don’t even know him!_ John found that no matter how hard his logical side fought for dominance it was a losing battle. All John cared about was Sherlock’s hand on his cock as soon as possible. 

 

John bit his lip as he imagined what Sherlock’s cock would finally feel like rubbing up against his ass. John gave himself another tug and he thrust into the touch. 

 

“John, what are you doing? Did I give you permission?” 

 

John didn’t turn his head to the sound. It sounded just like it had before, except for the tone was even deeper and the voice echoed softly in the shower.

 

John finally turned his head and his breath caught in his throat. Sherlock was standing at the entrance to the showers completely naked. The pale teen was more gorgeous than John could have ever hoped for. There was barely a trace of hair on his entire body. Only black curls clung near his flush cock. 

 

Sherlock’s erection was tight against his lower belly. John bit at his lip as Sherlock walked closer. Suddenly the shower seemed a lot smaller. 

 

“Take your hand off now.” 

 

With a groan, John took his hand off of his cock. He had no idea it could hurt so much. John positively ached with the need to continue touching himself. However his mind was distracted as Sherlock finally crossed all the distance between them. 

 

Sherlock walked up behind him and slide his cock over John’s ass. It was the only part of their bodies that made contact. John pushed into it and soon he felt Sherlock’s long fingers pushing into the flesh of his upper back. Sherlock brought his body closer. His lips lingered next to John’s ear. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

“Have you been good?” 

 

Sherlock breathed into John’s ear. Sherlock was still in shock. How had he come to be in the showers with the willing body of John up against him? Sherlock _really_ had read all the signs in the gym storage room correctly-

 

John wanted him. Maybe even more than Sherlock wanted him. Why? Sherlock had no idea. That could be dissected later. For now, he was satisfied to have John naked, waiting and wanting. 

 

Sherlock darted his tongue out and licked at John’s ear. He didn’t stop there and soon he had licked his way along John’s neck and down to his shoulder. Sherlock bit down hard and John let out a surprised sound. 

 

When John thrust his hips back, Sherlock knew he had made the right choice. Sherlock sunk his teeth in deeper. “I’m going to have all of you, John. Every inch of you belongs to me and I’m going to take it.” 

 

John nodded his head and slide his ass up and down over Sherlock’s cock. Sherlock hissed at the smooth skin gliding up along him. 

 

“Yes, Sherlock. God-” John’s words came out in a rush. For a moment, Sherlock was worried that he might overload John. The thought made him smile wider. John being brought to the point where he barely knew his own name was exactly what Sherlock wanted. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

It was better than anything he had imagined. The thought of being caught just like in his fantasy combined with the knowledge that it was Sherlock’s hands on him brought John closer to the edge. Sherlock’s long fingers were nothing like his own and John was torn between thrusting into the elegant fingers or back onto Sherlock’s cock. 

 

John bit at his lower lip trapping his moans. Every sound seemed to reverberate on the tile walls and it made John blush when he knew he was hearing himself fall apart before Sherlock. 

 

Sherlock’s hand connected with his ass in a stinging slap. John gasped as he thrust into the hand wrapped around his cock. “Did I say you could do that? I want to hear you.” Sherlock practically growled into his hear. 

 

As if to prove his point, Sherlock let out a long moan as his hand worked its way between John’s ass cheeks. John stopped all movement at the unexpected touch. 

 

“Sherlock, wh-what are you doing?” John swallowed hard. 

 

“I told you I wanted all of you and I plan on taking it.” 

 

John closed his eyes and let Sherlock do as he wanted. One of Sherlock’s long fingers traced its way along John’s hole. He applied no force and for a moment, John could only focus on the dancing finger and what it promised. 

 

After John hadn’t pulled away, Sherlock started to push the tip of his finger into John. The blonde teen gasped at the surprising feeling. He had never done anything like this before and he hoped his inexperience wasn’t showing. The water continued to thump against his ever sensitive skin. Goosebumps spread out and his nipples hardened as Sherlock pressed in even deeper. 

 

John didn’t know if it was possible to die from sensory overload but he knew he was damn close. Sherlock’s hands were all over him and John didn’t know which part to focus on.

______________________________________________________________________

 

Sherlock groaned as he felt the warmth of John around his finger. It had been a rouse, he had expected John to say ‘no’ but John kept surprising him in new ways. Already Sherlock was thinking of all the different ways he would fuck the rugby player. There were endless possibilities. 

 

“I want you to come home with me.” Sherlock couldn’t believe the words had left his mouth. He had planned on asking John later, not when he had his finger up his ass. 

 

“Yes.” It was spoken breathlessly from the teen under him. “Fucking god. I will go _anywhere_ you want me too.” 

 

Feeling suddenly wicked, Sherlock decided to twist John’s words. “What if I want you on your knees with my cock in your mouth?” 

 

John let out a stranded sound as he wiggled his hips so Sherlock’s finger went in deeper. Sherlock bit at John’s shoulder again. The taste of water and John lingering in his mouth. 

 

“What if I want my cock buried as deep as it can go inside you? I would ride you so hard you couldn’t walk. Is that what you want, John?” Sherlock added another finger when he said John’s name. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

John knew exactly what he was agreeing to and he wanted all of it. God, he wanted Sherlock to take him in every way he knew possible and then more. John rubbed hard against Sherlock’s cock. 

 

“Yes, fuck me. Sherlock-” 

 

“Not now. Later.” 

 

John smiled at the thought. _Later._ With that one word, Sherlock was promising this was more than just a quick fuck. Sherlock wanted more. Whatever that was John wasn’t sure what it would be but he wanted more of the incredible man behind him in his life. 

 

John continued to grind against Sherlock’s fingers. The taller teen began to thrust up against John and he knew that Sherlock was getting closer. John had been containing himself for so long that he was glad to know that he wasn’t the only one near release. 

 

“I think- I’m close.” 

 

Sherlock dipped his head down again. John felt the wet curls tickle the side of his face. “Then come for me John. Come undone for me.” 

 

John moaned out Sherlock’s name as the orgasm hit him. He continued to frantically pump into Sherlock’s tightening hand. The teen’s finger flicked over John’s tip and his whole body shook at the touch so quickly after his orgasm. 

 

Sherlock began to pump furiously; sliding his cock faster and faster against John. “Sherlock, god, yes.” 

 

Sherlock’s breathing hitched as he came all over John’s back. The shower water quickly washed the warm come away. With a final touch, Sherlock removed his fingers from inside John. He placed a kiss on John’s right shoulder blade. 

 

For a long moment, John was scared to turn around. No matter what they had said while they had been fucking, would Sherlock still mean it after? John closed his eyes and let the water wash over him. 

 

Sherlock placed another kiss on John’s shoulder. “John, my fingers are beginning to prune.”

 

Despite his nervousness, John let out a laugh. Even though he wasn’t sure he could face Sherlock yet, he turned off the shower. Without the steady pounding of water, the room sounded too quiet. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

For a horrifying moment, Sherlock wondered if he had read John wrong. The blonde’s body was stiff and he was refusing to turn around. Shaking his head to rid it of sentiment, Sherlock applied his skills to seeing the situation for what it was. 

 

“John, if you’ll have me, I want to be more to you that just someone you pass in the hallways. We don’t have to move any faster than you want but I’d like it if you visited me sometime.” It hurt to say the words, to bear his emotions in ways that he was unaccustomed too. However Sherlock was relieved that he had managed to say it all with a steady tone.  

 

Finally John turned around. His eyes were warm and Sherlock wanted to kiss him and thread his fingers through the blonde damp mess that was John’s hair. Sherlock was happy to see that the smile was in John’s eyes as well. 

 

“I’d really like that.” John leaned and placed a soft kiss to the side of Sherlock’s mouth. Sherlock’s hands flew up and encircled John, more content than he had ever felt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahhhh I like this AU!


	16. The Whole Truth AU MILITARY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from: 'anon who is too lazy to log on' (Thanks! I really liked writing this!) 
> 
> Keywords: Slight non-con, handjob and Sherlock is a bit of an ass (but hey, what's new?)

 

John cursed silently. How could he haven’t gotten caught so easily? John flinched as the pain in his shoulder reminded him. _Oh, yeah. I got shot._ John thought bitterly. His hands were cuffed and he longed to rub at his sore muscles. 

 

Now that he was in an interrogation room and John had no idea what would come next. There was the obvious glass but the guard had mentioned a lie detector test, yet John could see no machine. It was just two chairs and a table separating them. John was occupying one chair and he didn’t look forward to whoever would be in the other one. 

 

John tried not to flinch at the sound of the doorknob turning. The solider sat up straight, ready to met the man who was to interrogate him. John wasn’t expecting the sight before him. 

 

Instead of an Afghani it was a white man. John’s mouth twisted up. _This is about to get more interesting._ John flexed his fingers under the table and waited for the other man to open his mouth. 

 

“Captain John Watson. Pleasure.” The black haired man before him said his name with a thoughtful expression on his face. 

 

_British._ What was a British man doing with the Afghanis? Not only that but he sounded like he was from London. All John did was give a curt nod. The other man just stared down at him with his hard eyes that John refused to admit were strikingly deep. 

 

“So Captain, care to tell me why we’re here?” The tall man continued to look down at him, making no move to sit in the other chair. 

 

Without a second thought John was on his feet and with a slight wobble he was back in his chair again. _Damn these restraints._

 

The dark haired man smiled at him showing all his teeth. John was reminded of a jaguar. As if to paint a more through picture, the other man began to pace around the small table. He seemed to be mumbling to himself. Finally curiosity got the better of him. 

 

“What are you going on about?” For a moment, John was tempted to spit on the man as he passed by again. 

 

“Deductions my good captain. That is what they pay me for.” Suddenly the man’s hand was grasping John’s hair. He pulled John’s head back and looked down into his eyes. “It’s a shame. Anyone could read you.” He released John’s head violently and the captain’s head flung forward. 

John clinched his jaw refusing to be provoked by the other man. “Who are you? Why are you working for _them_? John spat out the last word. 

 

“Interesting. It’s where the work is- the puzzles.” The man stopped circling and burned his gaze at John. “Do you like puzzles, captain?” 

 

John snorted and closed his eyes. _God, how long am I going to have to deal with this?_

 

“Whatever, I’m not going to tell you anything. So could you just lead me back to my cell?” John tried to keep his voice bored sounding. 

 

The other man clicked his tongue. “Now, now. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Who said anything about you telling me anything? I almost know everything you could possible tell me.” 

 

John narrowed his eyes. “Explain.” 

 

And with that, the flood gates were open. The mysterious man was telling him his life story and he even knew details about the mission. Somehow it seemed off. His deductions had been all correct about his personal life but the mission was wrong. All wrong. 

 

“Brilliant.” The word was out before John could stop it and his stomach turned. 

 

“You don’t even need to tell me that. I saw it in your eyes, captain.” The man was right behind John and the sitting captain could feel body heat radiating off of him. 

 

John breathed out, “How?” 

 

John didn’t need to turn around to see the man’s smirk. “Your eyes dilated when I walked in and once again when I grabbed you by the hair. Attraction. You like danger, don’t you?” 

 

“I suppose I am an adrenaline junkie at times.” John stared straight ahead, his back stiff with tension. 

 

“Really?” Sherlock dipped his head down and his lips brushed up against the back of John’s ear. “Do you want to see some more?” 

 

John stopped his head from nodding. His lips parted as his tongue darted out and licked at his sun-cracked lips. _God, help me. Yes, I do._

 

Without warning, the chair was spun around and Sherlock had straddled him. The sudden movement surprised John so much that he made no move to push the obviously mental unbalanced man away. 

 

He leaned forward and placed his mouth next to John’s ear again. “Help me.” 

 

John blinked and furrowed his brows. _Did I just-?_

 

The man straddling him licked a slow line over the stubble of John’s chin and jaw. “Don’t say anything. Listen.” 

 

John titled his head down quickly. One nod to let the other man know he understood. Despite the situation, John felt his body responding to the warm body in his lap. It had been way too long since he had touched somebody other than in the capacity of a doctor. 

 

“My name is Sherlock Holmes.” The man called Sherlock brought his lips to John’s and bit at sun-dried mouth. “They’ve kept me here for six months.” 

 

John closed his eyes and trying to will his heartbeat to slow down. Sherlock nuzzled his neck and despite all his will-power had to give John released a moan. He was rewarded with a sharp bite to his neck. 

 

Sherlock ground down and John wasn’t surprised to feel an answering erection pressing into his own. “My brother can help you- Mycroft.” Sherlock hummed and started to bite again. 

 

John let out a shaky breath. He hoped that would suffice as an answer. Sherlock’s hand traced down his side. The hand made its way over the captain’s side to rest at the erection pressing up against his fatigues. 

 

The long palm worked its way slowly up along his cock and then down again. John’s mind was trying to come to grips with it all but it was so hard to concentrate with a hand on his dick. 

 

“Listen, John.” The captain’s ears perked up at the use of his first name. “I have the ‘information’ I need and I am going to report it to them.” 

 

Sherlock’s hand rubbed up again and John found his hips bucking up to met the touch. Sherlock let out a dark chuckle and wrapped his fingers slowly around John. “No need to be so impatient.” 

 

John licked his lips and then sought out Sherlock’s. It was a frantic open mouthed kiss with teeth clashing and tongues struggling for dominance. Even though his hands where tied up, John would be damned if at least his mouth didn’t get to taste more of the strange man who was in his lap. 

 

Sherlock continued to palm him with a growing pressure. Between the nonsense that Sherlock babbled, he also relayed to John all the plans and what had to be done. When John’s breathing started to hitch and his breathing got even more shallow, Sherlock slowed his hand. “Can’t have you coming before you know everything now can we?” 

 

John bit at Sherlock’s lip until there was blood for that smart ass remark. Sherlock clung to him even harder. John brought his head to rest on Sherlock’s shoulder; the sweat on his forehead slicking down Sherlock’s expensive looking shirt. His hips were rising from his chair to met the steady but firm hand rubbing his cock. 

 

“Fuck.” John knew he couldn’t last much longer even if Sherlock slowed his pace. “Can I...?” 

 

Sherlock bit down on the shell of John’s ear. His finger flicked up and pressed against the wet spot on John’s fatigues. “Um?” 

 

John grit his teeth. _Once we’re out of here his prick is going to have to answer for his._ “Can I come?” His cheeks were _only_ hot because of the physical exertion--

 

“I suppose.” Sherlock’s tone was bored but John could hear how much deeper it had gotten no matter how hard the berk tried to conceal it. 

 

John bit back his retort as he came in his trousers. His hips bucked up and Sherlock dig his palm in harder. John brought his head into the crook of Sherlock’s shoulder and let his breathing even out.

 

Sherlock lifted his other hand up to brush once through John’s damp hair. “Captain.” He placed a hard kiss to John’s temple and with one fluid movement he was standing up. John’s head lolled before he could bring it up to stare at the tall man looming over him. 

 

John blinked once and Sherlock was already at the door. He didn’t bother to turn his head as Sherlock walked out. John bit the inside of his lip. _Well, that was different._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to send me any ideas! Thanks :D


	17. Restricted Section AU Underage Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John gets a hand job from an older boy. :D 
> 
> In my mind, John is nearly 14 and Sherlock is almost 17. However, you can make them whatever age you want!

John knew it was a bad idea from the very start. But it made his heart pound and his cock twitch with anticipation, so he decided to dismiss the voice in his head that warned him against such rash actions as he was taking at that very moment.

While it was true that he sometimes missed the obvious, there was no way he could be blind to the way the older boy had been looking at him. John had been spending most of his summer vacation at the library and he had caught sight of the thin black curly haired boy the first day there. They had never spoken, but they occasionally shared looks that had gotten less cautionary and more flirtatious in the passing days.

At first, John thought it was too good to be true, but there was no mistaking the way the older boy would gaze at him and then narrow his eyes; making it feel as if he could undress John with only his gaze. John had averted his eyes at first, until finally he was able to look back without feeling like his face was on fire. John had licked his lips (nervous tick) and the black haired boy had smiled wickedly. That was when John knew something was going to shift between them- he just hadn't been sure what.

So, a few days later when the taller boy had stood up, John's eyes had naturally followed him. He had looked directly at John and tilted his head. The signal had been clear.  _Follow me._ Curiosity had gotten the better of him and he looked cautiously around to make sure no one noticed as he stood and followed the other boy. John followed at a reasonable distance and see soon arrived at the restricted area on the library. He passed right through it and down towards the basement. He couldn't help looking over his shoulder to double-check that no one had seen him.

His heart started to be faster and his stomach couldn't decide if it it wanted to twist or flutter. John had no idea what was awaiting him and his mind gave him a thousand scenarios...each one more lewd than the one before it.

John's eyes flicked over the dusty books that lined the ancient bookshelves. He couldn't read any of the titles; half of them were faded and others were in languages he didn't recognize. He wandered down a few rows and still couldn't find the other boy.  _Oh, god. Don't tell me I went the wrong way!_ John cursed. How could he be so stupid? He stopped and tried to think of what other way the boy could have gone.

"Don't worry. I just wanted to watch you  _squirm._ " The voice was right at John's right ear. The breath was warm against his skin and it made John gasp.

He had never heard the other boy's voice. It was deeper than John could have ever imagined and the way it rumbled sent a shiver down his spine. A hand crept up his back and a soft pressure was applied to his hip. Fingers curled around him and John's skin burned under his jeans.

John opened his mouth but there was nothing to say. Instead, he pushed back lightly. Now that it was so close, John didn't feel the need to be coy. Hell, he didn't think he could be even if he had wanted too. Even though, John wasn't going to force himself on the boy whose name he didn't know. However, he  _was_ going to make it perfectly clear that whatever the dark curly hair boy wanted to do was  _perfectly fine._

In fact it was more than fine as John titled his head to the side and a nose began to nuzzle him. "John...you are quite irresistible."

How the older boy knew his name John had no idea.  _I'll have to ask him later._ He tried not to think too hard about whether there would be a 'later' or not. John had chosen to live in the moment and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Soft lips pressed up under his ear and John most definitely did not squeak. John's hands didn't know what to do and so one came up to cover the other boy's wrist. Fingers pressed harder into John's skin and he prayed that there would be a bruise there when he left. The taller boy's hand worked its way slowly from John's arm to trail around to his front. It lazily made a path south and his fingers traced along till it reached the button on his jeans.

"There's no going back for you if you agree, John." The boy practically purred into his ear.

John nodded his head and breathed out shakily, "Yes. God, yes." He was past the point of caring if the words came out in a plea. There needed to be hands on him  _now_ and John knew exactly who he wanted them to come from.

The boy nipped at his neck as his hand slide down to cover John's jean clad erection. He was beyond straining the front of his jeans and John hissed as the hand adjusted to cup his cock. John pressed back harder and he felt the answering erection straining against the older boy's trousers.  _Thank god I'm not the only one being affected by this._

"Remember, you have to be quiet. We are in a library after all." He said as he thrust forward so that John couldn't mistake what was poking up against him. John let out a whimper.

"Shhh..." He whispered and pressed his palm harder against John's cock.

John fought the urge to thrust into the hand. He wasn't sure what he was suppose to do and fear had stilled John's movements. Biting at his lower lip, John ground slowly against the hand.

"If you don't start showing some more enthusiasm, I might be under the impression you are not enjoying yourself." There was laughter lining the voice and something much more darker under the surface.

Feeling the fool, John let out the low groan he had been holding in and rutted harder against the pleasant warmth that had begun to stroke him.  _Damn! There's no way he can't tell I've never done this before!_ John had never hoped that the tall dark haired boy would take interest in him; let alone that that interest turn out to be sexual. He had hoped, but it wouldn't have been the first daydream he had entertained about unrealistic situations.

The other boy's hand snaked up and he slipped his thumb into John's jeans, popping the top button open. John threw his head back and he leaned into the long expanse of pale neck and ran his sweat slick skin along it. John took a deep breath and relished the smell of the older boy- chemicals and cologne mingled together.

Fingers pushed down and John's zip slowly came undone. Somewhere in the back of his mind, John thought of how ridiculous it was to be getting his first hand-job in the library. He let out a strangled giggle. The other boy's hand moved from his hip and spread out along his lower belly.

John stretched his neck up and pressed his lips against the taller boy's jaw. It felt like silk and there was the faint taste of salt and aftershave on his skin. John timidly peeked his tongue out and sought another taste.

Fingers glided along his pants and John hissed out a breath of air. The other boy chuckled darkly and continued to drive John crazy with his hand, that was so tantalizing close to finally pressing skin to skin. While one hand stroked him slowly, the other tangled through the short hairs next to John's navel.

"I want to see you."

John tried to form a coherent thought, but none would come to him. He started to open his eyes, and everything was in a hazy of touch and the dim lights of the florescent bulbs overhead blurred his vision. All John could see were dusty books and cream colored ceiling. In a flash of panic, John realized he wasn't sure if he had spoken or the taller boy had.

"Next time." He answered in his silken voice and John realized he must have been the one whining. John hadn't even recognized his own voice.

 _Next time._ John's cock twitched just at the thought of it. He closed his eyes again and let the sensations flood out everything else. The other boy seem to decide to take it further as the hand that had been brushing through his tight lower curls went lower to join its companion over his cock.

John couldn't keep the deep groan from escaping his lips as fingers stroked the head of his erection. There had already been a wet spot developing on his pants and the boy's fingers stroked along it. The alien fingers swirled the pre-come head and his index finger pressed along John's slit making his entire cock light up with a thousand different sensations.

John's stomach muscles clenched tight as the head of his cock was taken out of his pants. The cool air washed over him and it was quickly replaced with a warm hand. John thrust his arse back and ground harder against the straining cock against his back. He rotated between the two- thrusting up and back.

The taller boy's grip tightened around John's cock. "Now, now, John. This is about you." He placed a quick kiss at John's temple. "Next time it can be about 'us'."

John could only nod in agreement. It sounded ludicrous. How could it not? Apparently the only one who was going to get off in the situation was him. While John was pleased that he wasn't being denied, he couldn't believe that he wasn't allowed to help bring the other boy to his climax. It annoyed John for about five seconds- then he remembered he had a couple of hands on his cock and he didn't give a fuck about anything else.

The taller boy slipped his hand in farther and John's pants slipped down until his entire cock was freed. The strokes became teasing and slow. "No one has ever touched you like this, have they?" The boy's voice was thick and he barely spoke above a whisper.

John was going to only nod his answer but something told him to voice what the dark haired boy wanted to hear. "No, only you. God, I never knew it could feel like this."

A hand came up to John's mouth. "Spit on it."

John could smell himself on the boy's hand. He wet his lips and rolled his tongue over it, slicking it down with spit. Once it was sufficiently wet, it went back down to his cock. John thrust up into the hand that encircled him.

"Show me what you want. Fuck yourself on my hand. I want to see you come undone under my touch." The voice nearly purred as it nipped at his ear. The words were precise and almost cold sounding. John would have almost been worried, at it not been for the husky quality the other boy's voice had taken.

John bit down on his lower lip at the shameless implication of the words. If he didn't control his desire to cry out, everyone within a mile radius was going to know what they were doing. John grabbed at the taller boy's hips to steady himself as he thrust up until he was on his tiptoes.

Fingers were unmoving and John let his body find the frantic rhythm it had been building towards. He was so incredibly close but at the same time he didn't want it to end. He fought against his orgasm; skirting along the edge of it. Muscles tightened and John's thighs started to burn with the extrusion of thrusting up as hard as he could.

Soon John could no longer delay the inevitable. The pressure built and he finally pitched over the cliff he had been walking along. John couldn't stop the strangled cry that escaped his lips as he came. The intensity of it was almost painful and John knew he had fought against it for too long.

The hand that had remained still pumped slowly as John's body clenched and released. It worked him through his orgasm and John's body twitched as the last bit of come was taken from him.

"That was quite the display." The words were followed with a kiss to John's skin. "You do have quite the potential."

"What's your name?" John's words were thick in his throat.

"Once you find out, I'll have you on your knees with my cock in your mouth. I do look forward to that." His hand unwrapped from John's softening cock. "I'll be waiting, John."

The warm heat that had been pressing up against John was gone the next moment. He turned around only to see the row of books empty. He took one step forward until he realized that his cock was hanging out of his pants.

Brushing furiously, John turned back to face the bookshelf and put himself back into his pants and zipped up his jeans. That was when his fingers felt the wetness on his clothes. Looking down, John let out a curse. There were splatters of cum all over his shirt and his jeans had an obvious wet spot.

"God damn it!" John ground his teeth together.

He was definitely going to learn the name of the mysterious boy who had just given him the best orgasm in his life- so that next time they met, he could make sure that he wasn't the only walking out of the library with a book-bag hugged to the front of them in an effort to hid a come splattered shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know I haven't updated in forever. Sorry! I have recently discovered that I am very vanilla. And although I can seem to read fanfics that are more 'risky', I can't seem to bring myself to write them...someday!   
> Check out my faves if you want to find some delicious (or slightly odd) smut!   
> -Did someone say tentacles?-   
> Oh, and everyones prompts are still in my mind. One day...


	18. LINGERIE AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is from a prompt I got for 'lingerie'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, at the moment I can't upload this on tumblr...hope you don't mind. Won't mention anything by name but well, if you want to contact me you know how ;D
> 
> Sorry, not really an AU...more of kink (?) fill I suppose.

John watched as Sherlock moved around the crime scene with cat like grace. His lithe body graceful darted around the crowd and the police men, intent on his goal of collecting all the clues for the case and to hell with everything else. Still, that wasn’t enough to keep John’s eyes trained on him like they were. 

No, it was the knowledge that just the two of them shared. John tried not to let a wicked smile creep up or to allow his tongue to dart out and moisten them. The thought that under Sherlock’s perfectly cut suit was silky lingerie. _Although it might not just be silk...there could be lace today._

Sherlock had his mind palace for the work but what Sherlock didn’t know was that John had his own special room for categorizing all the different panties, straps and the assortment of other things that Sherlock wore only for them.  

 _I wonder if it’s the crotchless panties._ John thought as he caught a glimpse of an outline on Sherlock’s trousers. That pair had a lot of lace and at times it would show through the sinfully tight suits. Those were some of John’s favorites.  

John’s cheeks slightly flushed as he remembered bending Sherlock over the kitchen table and ripping off his trousers. It had been weeks before but the memory was still very vivid. The contrast of yellow lace against Sherlock’s dark curls and porcelain skin. Sherlock had worn his purple shirt that day and John had drowned in thought of taking the gorgeous man fully clothed.  

Their eyes met and John felt his back stiffen. John’s insides gave a tug as Sherlock bent over and John was rewarded with a terrific view of his posh arse. _Or it could be the red silk ones._ John was partial to those too. The way the silk felt against his cheeks and how Sherlock’s cock would strain against the tight material.  

John could no longer hold back licking his lips as his eyes lingered down to Sherlock’s well-defined thighs. Just like every other part of Sherlock. they made lust flare in John’s groin. _I hope he wore that cream garter today and those stockings._ John’s thoughts went back to when he had ran his hands up and down those strong legs clad in smooth material- it had been deliciously wonderful.   

John’s gaze wondered back up to Sherlock’s broad back. It was amazing that man could find a bra that fit him so well. John especially loved the ones with the clip at the front- when he could take one nipple though the thin cloth with his teeth and snap open the latch with one hand. Sometimes, he would just slide the bra up; marveling in the fact that it was just as sexy with Sherlock as it had been with any woman he had been with before. 

Yes, Sherlock could wear lingerie even better than super models. Whoever had thought it only suited the female form was completely wrong...and had never seen Sherlock in only a pair of panties with lace stocking. 

It was difficult to fight the urge to touch himself. Even in such a public place, just the flashes of previous encounters was enough to drive John nearly made with want. John knew that Sherlock loved the fact that with their little game he was slowly making his blogger lose his mind with lust; it had always been a give and take relationship no matter what anyone thought. _More so than they’ll ever know._  

When they finally got back to the flat, the door had barely shut before John nearly pounced on Sherlock. John’s mouth sought out the detective’s long expense of neck as Sherlock allowed his jacket to slip off. John plucked open each button and let his fingers linger on the flesh that was slowly being exposed.  

John leaned back and let out a small gasp. There were thin black strips of leather that went down the middle of his chest and branched apart to cross under his nipples. John could see that the strips met up around the front again only to dive down under his trouser line. Without another thought, John was down on his knees and unzipping Sherlock’s them. 

There was a pair of lace panties that covered the strips that still continued down farther. With one sharp tug, Sherlock’s trousers joined his jacket. John traced his fingers along the strips of thin leather and he felt Sherlock’s stomach muscles clench at the gentle caresses. 

Sherlock let out a hiss when John’s teeth replaced his fingers. He took one of the strips in his mouth and stretched it out until, when he released it, it made a pleasant slapping sound against Sherlock’s skin.  

Fingers sunk into soft flesh as John held Sherlock by the hips. The lace around his hips was only a few inches wide and did nothing to cover his growing erection. Having ignored it for as long as he could, John ran his tongue along the side of it. One of Sherlock’s hands carded through John’s sweat slick hair as the crouching man took the head of cock around his lips.  

Sherlock’s moan was almost a groan as one of John’s hands moved back to find that the panties had no back either. John couldn’t stop a rumble from escaping his throat as he felt the outline of a small plug in Sherlock’s arse. John slowly began to remove it and he heard a small popping noise when it completely slipped out.  

Paying the plug no attention, it was tossed to the side. Two of John’s fingers took the place of the slick piece of plastic. Not only was Sherlock hot but the ease in which John glided his fingers in astonished him. John’s cock hardened as he remembered how Sherlock had bent down in front of him earlier that day.  

Still, John was slow to pump his fingers in and out before adding a third. His other hand went down to slide under the leather of one of the straps covering Sherlock’s thigh. Sherlock mewed out John’s name as the doctor’s skilled fingers finally found what it had been searching for deep inside him. 

Although he didn’t want to stop, John had other plans in mind. He removed his fingers, took his mouth away and placing his free hand on one arse cheek, and stood up. Sherlock growled in protest but was swiftly silenced as John directed him towards the coffee table. The magazines were pushed off and John motioned Sherlock to lay on his back.  

Sherlock easily complied. John took a moment to soak in the sight of Sherlock completely debauched, with the black strips pressing against the now flushed skin of his front side. John hastily undid his trousers and dropped them along with his pants. With another swift move, one of Sherlock’s legs was over his shoulder. John went back down again on his knees; the position was difficult to maintain but John knew it would be worth it in the end.  

Without so much as a warning, John thrust into Sherlock. The detective’s back arched up and he practically yelled when John’s hand started to pump him in time to his thrusts. Except John didn’t touch him long and when John’s hand went to Sherlock’s stomach, the other man knew what to do.  

Sherlock’s head was thrown back as his own hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. John watched in rapture as Sherlock got himself off to the timing of John grounding into him. John fought not to shut his eyes as pleasure started to pool in his lower belly. Sherlock let out one last moan as his orgasm hit him. John watched as Sherlock’s come covered his belly and stained the leather lingerie. 

Sherlock’s mouth was stretched out in an obscene shape and it made John finally lose it. He pulled himself out at the last second so that his come could join Sherlock’s on his belly. A shiver ran up John as the last of his seed spilled out on the other man. Sherlock reached one hand up and traced a path in their mingled come. Their eyes locked as Sherlock let the finger cover his lips in white liquid. It glistened on his plump lips and John licked his own as Sherlock’s tongue darted out and tasted them. 

“I think this might be my new favorite outfit.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt slightly dirty while writing this and it felt fantastic!


	19. STRIPPER AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is from a prompt of stripper- lap dance and voice kink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There seemed too be too much plot. I think I will definitely be doing more with these prompts. But please enjoy this one for now :D

John tried to keep the fake smile plastered on his face but it was getting more difficult as time went on. He had been on his shift for only three hours and yet it was more like an eternity. Why was he doing this? _Because you’ll be homeless and already more pathetic than you already are._ John frowned. He really didn’t need to be reminded of that.  

The uniform chaffed and he felt more dignity being stripped from him after every drink that he served. How had he become this? Working at a sleazy strip bar as a waiter? He wasn’t even a barman for christsake. John bit back a sigh.  

“You’re whiskey, sir.” John had to admit that he was surprised that someone would order such a plain drink. He was used to Paradise Cove and Sex on the Beach or Fuzzy Nipples.  

The man took it without so much as a thank you. It was enough to bring John out of his hazy and to actually focus on the man before him. Even though the light was dim, John still couldn’t believe that he had missed him. 

The man’s hair was slicked back but John could see the way that it curled around his neck. His suit was sharp cut and looked completely too expensive to be in such a cheap place. John’s pulse jumped and his mouth dried; before he realized it, he was licking his lips.  

“Yes?”  

John blinked. _Damn, do I have to be caught staring?_ “I-” 

“Do you strip too?” The man’s voice sounded bored. Like he wasn’t in the middle of a strip club. Now that he looked at his face, John saw that even his entire posture was bored looking. Then the stranger’s words finally hit.  

“Wait. Wha-?” John almost dropped his empty tray.  

“You’re much more interesting than this lot.” His eyes flashed before taking a long sip from his whiskey.  

“Um, I’m only a waiter.” John tried to keep of the surprise out of voice..but it really was impossible.  

“Shame. I bet you’d be splendid.”  

John debated between running away or yelling at the stranger for ridiculing him in such a rude way. It was almost cruel. John was under no delusion that he was anywhere near the age or as handsome as the others who worked in the club.  

“Why are you here?” Because it was a female only strip club. “Men don’t work here- what are you playing at?” 

“I’d like to be playing you.” He licked his lips and put his empty glass on John’s tray. “I was here for a case however,” The man waved a hand in dismissal. “This might not be the establishment for such ‘things’ but I do know others that are.” 

He stood up so quickly that John jerked back. The stranger was taller than John realized and he bent over and one hand rested softly on John’s left shoulder. “My card.” John felt something being slipped into the back pocket of John’s tight trousers. The man’s hand lingered for a moment and grabbed his arse.  

It was really uncalled for; he should feel violated. But all John could of was the man’s body heat and the heavy scent of his cologne. And just like that, he was walking away. John made no effort to call after him.  

John took the tray back to the bar and went on his fifteen minute break. He had barely stumbled out into the alleyway before he had the card out of his back pocket. All there was was an address. “221B Baker Street.” John whispered to himself.  

 _What the hell did he want? Sex?_ John couldn’t imagine that a man like that would proposition him for sex. For money. With a body like that, he could have all the sex he wanted- for _free_. There was no reason for a man like that to pay for someone to have anyone touch his body. 

 _Maybe he’s a complete pervert? How much of a pervert would he have to be?_ John shivered and the thrill of it was delicious. What kind of kinks could a man like that have? He really shouldn’t go...and yet he had a feeling that even if he had really wanted to resist it he would have ended up going anyway.  

Was he too dominating in bed? Liked to role play? Although John supposed that really wasn’t perverted but...John’s vision swam from being tied up to watching that lovely lithe figure in high heels and a skimpy dress.  

After his shift, he googled the address.  

Instead of a mansion, John found himself at the front of a small building. _Not quite what I was expecting._ What kind of guy wears tailor made suits and then lives in a tiny rented out flat? _Well, I suppose I’m about to find out._ And once again, John H. Watson allowed his thrill for the unknown drown out the sane part of his brain.  

“Mrs. Hudson I have no- oh, it’s you.”He looked shocked for only a moment before readjusting his jacket. “I was expecting you sooner.” 

“Well, I did have a shift to finish.” John rolled his eyes.  

“Boring.” He walked back into his flat without inviting John in. His hair was out of his previous slicked style and was a disarray of messy curls. The sight made John’s stomach burn. With that, John realized that he didn’t give a shit and just followed behind after closing the door.  

“Who are you?” John still didn’t have a name.  

“Sherlock Holmes.” He said simply like it didn’t matter at all. 

When Sherlock didn’t ask for his name, John stated, “I’m John Watson if you care to know.” 

Sherlock eyed him. “I know. Do you think I just invite strange men to my house?” 

John didn’t know what to say to that.  

“I need you to see if these motions correspond to the dancing at the strip club.” Sherlock said matter-of-factly. “I believe that-” 

“Wait, what did you just say?” John took a sit in the nearest armchair; his legs would no longer hold him up. This certainly wasn’t what he had been expecting.  

“I need you to understand these signs so you can report back to me.” Sherlock put his hands on his slender hips. John fought back a gulp. 

“ _That’s_ what you need me for?” John really couldn’t understand why he had to do it when Sherlock could do it himself.  

Sherlock sighed in exasperation. “Don’t you see? I’ll be waiting at their base of operations. I need to know where they are going from that location. That’s why I want you to text me the information.”  

“Oh, why didn’t I get that before.” John said sarcastically.  

“Exactly.”  

John bit back a snappy retort. “So, what now?” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I dance, show you the signs to look for and then you go work like you always do. Then text it to me.” 

“Okay.” John didn’t know what else he could say. Sherlock had just said, in so many words, that he was going to do a strip tease for him.  

“Well there is no point in continuing on with his chatter. Let’s get started.” Sherlock clapped his hands together and turned around to turn on a stereo. That was when John saw the pole that had been set up. John’s hands gripped his knees and he waited with thick anticipation. 

The music started and it was just like any other song he had heard in the club. When Sherlock moved back into view, his entire body language recked of seduction. His coat fell in a pile on the floor. “Now I want you to see what order I unbutton my shirt. The buttons correspond from 1 to 10.”  

Sherlock’s thin fingers went to flip open the third button on his insanely tight shirt. The rest of the buttons soon followed and John’s eyes roamed over the flat chest and strong muscles. It spoke of cat like strength and John knew there was hidden power there.  

After discarding his shirt, Sherlock sauntered over to the pole. One hand gripped the pole and he twisted down slowly in a half circle. “This is the second signal John. If they use their right hand it’s 6 and if it’s 5 they’ll use their left.”  

Sherlock had used his right.  

Sherlock’s back straightened against the back of the pole and he slide down with his legs spread out wide, he threw his head back and raised his arms over his head gripping the pole. There was just the slight bit of sweat beginning to form on his brow- John wanted to lick it off.  

After sliding back up the pole, Sherlock turned around and, still holding onto the pole, arched his back down so that his arse was up in the air. John’s eyes were blown wide as Sherlock moved his hands up and down the pole moving faster with each stroke.  

John watched enraptured as Sherlock danced around the pole. He had never seen a man use a stripper pole and now John wondered what he had been doing with his life. Sherlock’s muscles were flexing and moving with such controlled movement; it was like liquid poetry.  

Sherlock unbuckled his trousers and tossed them off with little ceremony. “The color of her panties will also be part of the signal.” 

John tried not to blush at the word ‘panties’. It really was silly, he wasn’t a teenager- hand’t been one in a long time. Sherlock’s pants were tight and hugged him in all the right places. The bulge was obvious and John licked his lower lip.  

“Blue is 5, yellow is 9, green is 3, pink is 2, red is 6, black is 4 and white is 8.”  

Sherlock’s pants were as black as his midnight curls. There was a light trail of hair disappearing under the band of Sherlock’s pants. Despite his best efforts, John felt himself grow harder. How could he not? John was being treated to his own personal strip show. It was beyond hot. 

Sherlock stalked forward and stood before John. Before John could ask what he was doing, Sherlock bent forward and took John’s lips on his own. John could taste the saltness of Sherlock’s skin on his upper lip. Nibbling and dragging his teeth over Sherlock’s lush lips, John wondered if this was still part of the act.  

Without a word, Sherlock pulled away to put his leg up on the chair. Of its own accord, John’s head dipped down and pressed a kiss to the inside of Sherlock’s knee. Sherlock’s hands came up to rub over his own chest. John placed his lips back on Sherlock’s skin and looked up through his eyelashes to watch.  

“The right leg is 9, left leg 8.”  

John’s lust fogged brain computed it and stored it away without another thought. Sherlock lowered his leg so that his knee was on the seat cushion. A moment later, Sherlock’s other knee was raised to the chair so that he had trapped John in between his legs.  

Sherlock’s hands came up to card through John’s hair. John closed his eyes and savored the feel of it. His hands continued down and interlaced themselves behind John’s neck. That was when Sherlock scooted closer so that he was in John’s lap. John sucked a breath through his teeth as Sherlock started to rub against his groin.  

It was a slow grind and it made John harder. He prayed that Sherlock would just ignore it. Or maybe not so much that he would ignore it as not be disgusted by it. But when John felt that he wasn’t the only one interested most of his worry was wiped away. Sherlock made an obscene sound and John’s hands flew up to grip his hips.  

One of John’s fingers dipped under Sherlock’s black pants and he marveled at the heat coming off of Sherlock’s skin. He was on fire and John felt himself going up in flames. 

“Don’t you know? You’re suppose to look and not touch. Honestly, John. How long have you been working there?” Sherlock’s tone was teasing and he rubbed his nose along the side of John’s neck up to his jawline.  

“Yeah, but I’ve never wanted to touch before.” John’s words were thick in his throat.  

Sherlock threw his head back and rewarded John with a view of porcelain skin that seemed to go on forever. John leaned forward and licked a strip up that luscious flesh. Sherlock let out a throaty groan and thrust up.  

“You don’t have to do this.” No matter how much John wanted it, he didn’t want Sherlock to do anything in some form of payment. Sherlock was the type of guy that John wanted to know more about without sex being the only block for building their relationship. He didn’t want to ruin it or cheapen it if Sherlock was going to try and pay him with any sexual favors.  

“No.” Sherlock’s eyes glittered and his fingers rub up along the short hairs on the nape of John’s neck. “I want to do this because we both want it. I want this John, just as much as you do.” 

That was enough for John to throw off the rest of his inhibitions. John grabbed Sherlock’s arm and brought his palm to his lips. He placed kisses up higher and higher until he took the tip of Sherlock’s index finger in his mouth. 

“I don’t think you could possibly want this more than me.”  

Like lightning, Sherlock’s hands went down John’s chest to stop at his belt buckle. With skilled hands, John’s belt was loose and his zipper was being lowered. Sherlock’s hand rubbed up against the erection there and John moaned.  

“I think you rather like this John.” 

John didn’t know what he was suppose to say. Sherlock’s voice was deeper than it had been before and seemed to rubble in John’s ears like distant thunder. Just the way Sherlock said his name made goosebumps form on his arms.  

Sherlock’s palm just dragged at an excruciating pace against him. John’s hips bucked up wanting more but also wanting the low pressure growing in his belly to continue to build for forever.  

“I can feel how much you want me John. How hard I’m making you.” Sherlock practically purred.  

The words washed over John and his entire body lit up with manic need. It was a struggle not to just rut against that hot body and get the release he so desperately needed.  

“The way you feel against my hand. I want to _devour_ you.” Sherlock gasped as he ran his thumb over the tip of John’s cock.  

John’s hands fumbled with the rim of Sherlock’s pants. He jerked it down and was rewarded with the feeling of being able to finally run his own hand down Sherlock’s cock.  

They both moved in a dance to the sound of the music still blaring around them. John licked his lips and brought his mouth down on Sherlock’s shoulder and bit down softly. 

Pre-come mixed with sweat and soon their cocks were sliding easily through their hands. Sherlock brought their hands together and John bit down just a little harder against Sherlock. John’s thighs burned with the force of thrusting himself up with Sherlock in his lap.  

“John, I want you to make me come. Make me come John.” Sherlock panted.  

The steady rhythm started to work its way to a frantic cusp. It was going to be a magnificent climax and John couldn’t wait to see what it would do to Sherlock’s expression. The beautiful man’s face was already twisted in pleasure and desire warmed John’s skin.  

“God John! The things I want you to do with to me. Your mouth, those hands. I want to feel you inside me.” Sherlock gasped louder as his erection grew harder. 

John felt his own muscles tightening at the sound of Sherlock listing all the things he wanted them to do together.  

Before John even know what was happening, Sherlock was coming in his hand. John let out a moan as his own orgasm rocked through his body. The force of it almost hurt; making it feel like his intestines were being ripped out his belly button. They both sat panting, trying to get their brains to align with their bodies again.  

Sherlock leaned forward and John could feel his lips brush against his ear. “Tell me the code.” 

“3649.” John barely even thought before he answered Sherlock’s question.   

Sherlock drew back. He cupped John’s face in his hands. Sherlock’s smile was dazzling and John knew he had gotten it right. “Yes! That is the military training I needed. John you will be most helpful.”  

John basked in the praise. 

Sherlock’s eyes twinkled. “Smart is the new sexy.”  

John let out a bark of a laugh. Sherlock leaned forward and kissed him passionately. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember any suggestions or whatever please send them to me! An AU can be anything >


	20. As You Wish EARL WITH CROP AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earl Sherlock returns home from a long riding trip, and John is a stableboy. Tripping over something he empties the bucket with water for the horses over Sherlocks pants, and Sherlock decides to punish him with the riding crop while they wait for his pants to dry.
> 
> \--Thanks again for the prompt!!!--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Riding Crop! ONLY THAT (mostly)

Earl Sherlock’s muscles were stiff and he knew he had been out riding for too long. But when the English countryside actually decided to reward him with a clear day, it was difficult for the usually cooped up Earl to not want to ride out and work on his experiments. Many had to be kept away from the prying eyes of his family and so they were tucked away in the only place they could be; in the forest next to a shadowed meadow.  

He often told himself that it had nothing to do with liking to ride on a sunny day but still Sherlock couldn’t help basking in the warm rays like a cat as he waited for his timed experiments to finish. It had put him an unusually good mood and he looked forward to playing the violin when he returned to Holmes Manor.  

Reaching the stables, Sherlock’s heart leapt as his luck continued to increase. The stiff mask was quickly put into place over his entire body and Sherlock straightened his back as he came to a halt at the stable doors.  

“How was your ride, My Lord?”

Sherlock sniffed condescendingly and didn’t answer the question. John Watson’s eyes were bluer than the sky and Sherlock was afraid his voice would hitch if he answered the innocent question. 

John H. Watson had begun working at his father’s estate a mere few months before. From the very instant Sherlock had laid eyes on him, he had been intrigued. But more surprising of all was that it hadn’t waned yet. That was very unusual.  

Realizing he had been staring at his hands, Sherlock dismounted his horse. He threw the reins at John without a word. Sherlock saw John’s eyes flash dangerously from the rude way he was being treated and Sherlock’s fingertips tingled because of it. No servant or stableboy had ever looked at him with such eyes; no one ever before John.  

They made their way into the stables. Sherlock took off his gloves and tried to look as bored as he could. Still, his gaze followed every step that John made. Enough to see when he was going to knock over a bucket of water- Sherlock stepped in the path of it. _Now it’s going to get interesting._

Like clockwork, the bucket was tipped over and spilled its contents on Sherlock’s tan riding trousers. It soaked down under his black boots and Sherlock fought back a smile from curling up his lip- it really was just too easy.  

“Look what you’ve done!” Sherlock exclaimed in agitation. 

John stared down in horror at the water that was now staining his Master’s trousers. John bowed his head but his back was still straight and his apology was spoken in an unwavering voice.  

Sherlock’s eyes gleamed. _Yes, John. Don’t cower. You are not a man who fears. But I can show you what it means to bow to another’s will._  

“Now, John. You don’t sound very repentant, do you?” Sherlock caught sight of the ridding crop hanging from the wall. “No, I have a feeling that you need to be taught a lesson.” 

Sherlock reached for the riding crop. John still hadn’t displayed a shred of fear. Sherlock’s wrist twisted and the crop cracked in the air between them. John’s face clouded over with an unreadable expression.  

“As you see fit, My Lord.” John licked his lower lip after he said the words.  

 _My Lord._ The way the title rolled so easily off of John’s tongue made Sherlock wonder what it would sound like when he cried it out in lustful pain. Sherlock’s hand tightened on the riding crop and he commanded. “Touch your toes.” 

Wordlessly, John complied. His hands wrapped around his ankles and he waited for Sherlock to do his worse. Sherlock’s hand came up and pushed John’s shirt up from his trousers. His palm was flat against the small of John’s back and Sherlock relished the softness of it. No man, who was once a solider, should have skin so smooth.  

The air whistled as the riding crop came down on John’s left arse cheek. There wasn’t even a cry as the crop connected, and Sherlock titled his head in admiration. “I do realize that giving unjust punishment is cruel, John. Therefore, I shall only whip you while the gross injury you have done to my trousers is rectified.”  

John didn’t answer and that was the only conformation that Sherlock had that the crop had actually stung the stableboy. Sherlock won’t have it. “What was that? Do speak up John.” 

“Yes, My Lord.” John’s tone was thick in his throat.  

Sherlock smirked as his whip connected again on John’s thigh. This time, John let out a hiss through clenched teeth. Sherlock knew there would be red welts on that golden skin if he continued. Raising his hand again, he delivered another blow to John’s thighs. And then again and again.  

Sherlock was panting, his cheeks flushed. His trousers were tight and Sherlock flexed his hand as he adjusted himself. Sherlock had to fight back the urge to rub his own palm against his growing erection.  

John never moved. However, he knew that John would be growing dizzy from the blood pooling in his face from the awkward position.  

“Stand up. Slowly.” Sherlock demanded. He watched each muscle, each movement as John stood back up. He wavered only a little as he finally stood erect. “I cannot have you passing out on me, now can I?” 

“What should we do now, John?” Sherlock came up behind John and ran the riding crop along his cheek and down his chest to that fine toned stomach. The crop continued its journey and lingered for only a moment on John’s hip. Sherlock hesitated for only a moment before dragging the crop across John’s lower belly from hip to hip.  

It wasn’t much of a shock when Sherlock found a bulge almost a big as his own tenting John’s trousers. _Exactly what I thought would happen. Quite pleasing. Now what to do about this?_ Except Sherlock knew perfectly what he wanted to do- had been wanting to do it ever since he had first laid eyes on the former solider.  

Sherlock stepped back. “On your knees.”  

Sherlock knew the only part that he had to avoid was John’s shoulder. It was a game, with pain but no cruelty. No matter what anyone said about him, Sherlock Holmes was not a man who relished the true suffering of others. The bullet that been lodged in John’s shoulder was wound enough.  

There was still enough of John for Sherlock to bruise. “Hands behind your head.”  

John’s hands came up to anchor himself, intertwined behind his neck. The crop soared through the air before connecting with John’s side. The crack made Sherlock’s eyes widen and his breath quicken.  

After a few more swift hits, Sherlock could hear the blood pounding in his ears. He took the crop and signaled for John to stand up. The stableboy stood up again and waited for the next command.  

“Take your trousers off.” Sherlock knew that John wanted to comply. But he still added, “If it pleases you.” As an after thought. Even though he was never wrong, Sherlock didn’t want to take any chances with this. With John.  

“As you wish.” John’s eyes almost bore a hole in Sherlock as he watched him as he took off his trousers. He wore no pants and Sherlock could see John’s cock standing tall, nestled between sun-kissed curls. The contrast of John’s copper skin from working outside and the pale porcelain of Sherlock’s own was acute. Sherlock wanted to spend weeks and weeks discovering and mapping every inch of that gorgeous skin. 

Sherlock had to restrain himself from just jumping on the stableboy. But John was worth more than that and Sherlock wanted to treat it as something special; not something to be rushed. Something to be _savored_.  

Because there was the power difference between them, Sherlock couldn’t get on his knees like he wanted too. To run his tongue up along John’s cock, to taste every flavor from the beginning to end. But an Earl couldn’t be on his knees for just _anyone_. Instead, Sherlock chose the middle ground. Sherlock used the crop to point to a haystack. John’s hips swayed slightly off-kilter as he made his way over to it.  

Sherlock stalked over and admired the view the pose afforded him. John’s thighs were already red and the crop marks were fresh against his skin. They weren’t going to leave any permanent marks or severe bruising...just the way he had planned it. Not that he expected for John to tell anyone; more he just preferred that, if he so choose, no one believe that the encounter had ever happen after a few hours had eclipsed. It was theirs alone.  

With that, Sherlock delivered a hard blow to John’s right arse cheek. The crop whizzed through the air and easily found its target again and again. Throughout the assault, John never wavered. However, it was the lightest blow towards the ending that made John moan aloud.  

Sherlock traced down John’s spine slowly with the riding crop. It was tantalizing to see the way his shoulder blades moved and the hard planes of his back. Finally giving into the temptation, Sherlock leaned forward and tasted the smooth skin where shoulder became neck.  

Sherlock heard the low growl that John made in the back of his throat as he continued to taste the skin that was now mingling with musk and salt. The crop fell from his hand. The free hand wrapped around John’s hip and let his fingertips sink into it.  

Only the sounds of their heavy breathing could be heard as Sherlock’s hand slowly trailed its way to small of John’s back and then farther down to his arse. Eyes flickered down and Sherlock caught sight of just the tip of John’s cock, raised hard between his legs, as Sherlock’s index finger trailed down to John’s tight hole.  

He was met with resistance but that had never been enough to stop Sherlock. John’s body pressed back just the barest amount. Sherlock’s left hand worked his way inside John while his right traced lazy circles on John’s back.  

It was barely just the tip of his index finger but it made Sherlock’s heartbeat quicken. John’s scent was surrounding him- he had to have more.  

Sherlock’s riding trousers were still soaked. He had all the time in the world. Sherlock smiled to himself as his finger pushed its way in deeper. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....if you would like the sex, with no crop because I don't really feel like I need it to continue the "plot" please tell me. I'm totally up for it, I just don't want to get too away from the actually main part of the prompt for this chapter. 
> 
> PS person who prompted me. don't want to advertise your name even though you aren't nonny, sometimes people are sensitive, so please let me know if you would like more or how you would like it to continue ;D
> 
> PS I think s3 has left me permanently scarred and I need PWP for my soul ::gross sobbing::


	21. PART 2 EARL AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fuck. Top!Sherlock

John was so pliant under his fingers. He was like clay begging to be molded. There had never been a man who held his interest like John Watson did. It had always only been physical...and it _certainly_ had never been with the ‘hired help’ before. Not that that mattered to Sherlock.  

No, it was John’s mind. The endless potential that rolled off of John in waves that Sherlock lusted after. It made him sick with the want of it.  

Whether it happened to be someone he spotted in the streets or in one of the fanciest clubs in London, class or status mattered to little to him- unlike his family. Sherlock took a moment to ponder what it would be like if Mycroft or his Mother walked in on them. There would be pure shock and revulsion all over their features.  

Sherlock smirked at the thought. Maybe he should orchestate it so that someone _would_ catch him and John in the act. It would be so deliciously easy. There offended faces would entertain Sherlock to no end. Maybe even John would see the humor in. Sherlock could imagine taking John again. And again and then once more. Really there seemed to an endless list of possibilities running wild in his mind. Surely, in one of those scenarios they would be caught. It made Sherlock want to giggle. 

But that wasn't the main reason why he wanted to fuck John again. John H. Watson needed to be seen in every light, every time of day or in candle light at night. Every part of his body mapped and tasted. It would take hours, days and Sherlock was up to the challenge. He would relish it. All of it.  

A small whimpering noise brought Sherlock back from his plotting. John’s back was arched up as high as it would go and it was obvious that he needed more of Sherlock inside him. Breaking away, Sherlock walked the few steps it took to reach for a black bottle on a nearby shelf. It wasn’t the specially made lube he had in his bedroom but it would have to do.  

Half of one finger buried inside John’s firm arse was far from enough. Not even close to enough. John didn’t reach up to touch himself. He waited patiently on all fours as Sherlock opened the bottle and slowly covered his fingers with cool liquid.  

Sherlock leisurely watched as the liquid dripped from between his fingers and ran down to cover his palm. There was no reason to hurry after all. Not when John obviously wanted it as much (or more than he did).  

The liquid was cool and smelled lightly of soap. Thankfully it was diluted and won’t burn...too much. Sherlock ran his now slick fingers along John’s crack. John made a strangled sound as Sherlock continued to wander down until he gently fondled John’s tight sac. It was heavy in his hand.  

Sherlock made a point to completely avoid John’s straining cock. It won’t do for him to get off too early. Sherlock raised his hand to slap the side of John’s leg where arse turned into thigh. The skin was already raw and John’s entire body jerked up and tightened at the unexpected slap.  

John bit back his cry and Sherlock took a moment to imagine what he might sound like with a gag in his mouth. _Oh, yes. This is definitely only the beginning, John._  

One finger went into John’s heat easily. With the added lubrication from the soapy concoction, John’s tight hole offered little resistance. Sherlock worked it in and out- a steady rhythm. One finger soon became two and John cried out a soft curse when Sherlock finally added the third finger.  

John hissed slightly when Sherlock’s fingers brushed up along his prostate. The sound send goosebumps up Sherlock’s arms and he felt his cock twitch. This trousers really were getting too tight.  

Sherlock continued to scissor John open as he fumbled with opening his trousers. It seemed like an impossibility to even take his fingers away from the scorching heat coming from the inside of John for even a second to take off his own clothes.  

A groan escaped from Sherlock’s lips as his rubbed his now hard cock against John’s arse. There came an answering gasp from John. Maybe he hadn’t been expecting Sherlock to fuck him with anything other than his fingers. Sherlock so did love proving people wrong.  

“Just relax.” Was the only warning Sherlock offered before he took out his fingers and thrust his cock into John’s now loosened hole. Even though it had opened under his ministrations, John was tighter than Sherlock imagined he would be. Sherlock slowed his pace, so that only half his cock was buried in John.  

“God.”  

Sherlock didn’t have to be a genius to know John wanted to say more. He was holding back and Sherlock wanted to have none of that. Damn their social circles and damn what was proper. They were buggering each other in a stable- what did ‘class’ matter to them?  

“Let me hear you. Don’t you dare hold back, John.” Sherlock found that he even wanted to hear his Christian name cried out from in between John’s lips. Curses and praises- Sherlock wanted to hear them all.  

“Fuck. Fuck, you feel amazing.” John’s voice was rough as he pressed up against Sherlock’s cock- taking more of him. Sherlock could only watch with surprise as John pushed back and took all of Sherlock inside him.  

Sherlock’s fingers came up to curl around one hip as the other hand pressed down on the small of John’s back. John’s skin was slick with sweat. Sherlock could just imagine what the fringe of John’s hair looked like plastered to his forehead. Sherlock could taste the saltiness of his own sweat on his upper lip. He would have to run an experiment to see what they tasted like together. 

There were only a few shallow, measured thrusts before Sherlock was ramming forward hard as John brought his own body back. The two men worked in perfect tandem as they pulled away, so did they move back to each other so that Sherlock felt like John was all around him.  

The sounds of slapping and grunts was only accented with the occasional curse from John. Sherlock dug his fingers in so hard he could feel John’s hip bone. Still it didn’t feel like enough. Sherlock wanted to swim in his blood stream, find out what made him tick. What made him, such an unlikely person, so impossible to ignore.  

“Please touch me.” John pleaded.  

John still hand’t touched himself and Sherlock had to admire his willpower. Then again, he couldn’t even if he tried too. “What was that, John?” Sherlock was impressed that he could still form a full sentence.  

“Please, Sherlock.” John gasped as Sherlock suddenly moved his hand to wrap around John’s throbbing cock. “Yes, please. God, more.”  

Sherlock dragged his fingers up slowly along John’s length. Just like everything else about John, his cock was also the perfect shape, size, weight. There was already pre-come dripping down and Sherlock bit at his lower lip as he dragged his thumb through it.  

Their frantic pace slowed down momentarily. John let out a shuttering breath as Sherlock pulled out completely to languidly thrust back in hard. He must of hit his prostate again because John nearly yelled out. Sherlock could hear it die between his lips as he bit it back. 

Sherlock wanted to encourage him to be louder but now the thought of one of his family member’s walking in wasn’t so funny. He had every intention of making them both came before they left the stables. Still, John needed to know that that kind of behavior wasn’t acceptable.  

“I’m going to make you scream until you’re hoarse.” Sherlock was pretty sure that was what he said. It was difficult to know if his brain could still communicate with his mouth. "Next time, I want to hear you." 

It must have been clear enough, because John was coming the next second with a small cry. All at once, the pressure that had been building in Sherlock’s lower belly boiled over. Sherlock wasn’t sure if it was the feel of John coming in his hand, or the way his body clenched around him that finally tipped him over the edge. He could hypothesize later.  

His thighs tightened up and Sherlock felt his arse clentch as his orgasm raged through his body. Every cell stopped and Sherlock reveled in the feeling of being one with John. 

“John.” Sherlock knew he should have pulled out but he found that he couldn’t bring himself to care. He stood ridge as he waited until his body came back online. As his cock softened only slightly, a shiver ran up his spine. Sherlock was still feeling aftershocks- his entire body hummed with energy. 

“What are your duties today?” Sherlock’s tone was casual even though still hadn’t made a single move to pull out of John. 

“Just taking care of your horse and general maintenance, My Lord.” The way John’s tongue formed the title made Sherlock want to take him all over again right in the stable.  

“If you would not be adverse to the idea, I believe that my experiments might need an assistant.” Sherlock found that his breath caught as he waited for a reply. It would be unthinkable for John to say ‘No’, yet-  

“Anything that I can help My Lord with would give me the greatest pleasure.” John’s voice was dark and thick. 

“Yes, I do believe that your assistance will give me pleasure as well.” Sherlock had no doubt about that. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! Hope you enjoyed it :D I certainly enjoyed writing it. Ah, one more porny AU to add to my long list. Can I just have the fuck in every verse, please?


	22. 5 times Sherlock was naked and the 1 time it was John NAKED AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my first 5 times +1. This isn't that porny but I like it :D

The first time it had happened, John had managed to slip away from the kitchen unseen. He had walked back up to his room and closed the door as quietly as he could. John had then walked over to his bed, grabbed a pillow and held it up to his face so he could scream into it. Sherlock Holmes was naked in their kitchen. Not only was he naked, but he appeared to be cutting up a spleen. _And he said playing the violin was the worse thing he did._  

It had to be a dream...an illusion brought on by insomnia. There was just no way that Sherlock could be so casual about nudity. Eventually, John evened out his breathing, unclenched his hands and tried to still his thumping heart. He was most definitely not thinking about how tight Sherlock’s ass had looked or how sharp the planes of his back were.  

John Watson did not think about those things at all. 

The second time he was not so lucky. John, lost in thought, had wandered into the kitchen to make his first cup of tea for the day to find Sherlock once again naked as the day he’d been born. John’s eyes grew wide and only after Sherlock tilted his head in question did John avert his gaze.  

He could feel his cheeks and ears turning red. John coughed uncomfortably and tried to regain his composure.  

“You’re naked.” John was impressed at how his voice sounded as if he was commenting on the weather and not something completely insane. Because Sherlock (naked, again) in their kitchen was (still) slightly out of the ordinary.  

“Obvious.” Sherlock stated sounding completely bored. He swept pass John and walked back into his room. John watched as Sherlock closed the door behind him without another word. John stood paralyzed in the kitchen trying to set his brain back online. The first time he had seen Sherlock naked it had only been from behind. Now he had seen everything in all of its glory.  

John was not thinking about Sherlock’s finely sculpted chest as he made tea. Nor were his thoughts wondering to how the dark hair of his legs joined in the middle to accent his flaccid cock in the most pleasing way. No, these thoughts were completely alien to him. 

John Watson did not think about these facts at all. 

By the third time, John was almost prepared for it. Almost. Except nothing could really prepare him for a naked genius standing in the middle of their flat. “Do you mind?”  

“Mind what? You staring at me?” Sherlock’s eyelids lowered and John swore he could almost feel the words turning into honey covered chocolate as they entered his ears and scrambled his brain.  

“I...what? You-” John stood in the living room doing a perfect impression of a fish gasping for oxygen.  

“Stop being so dull.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and went back to working on his blog.  

John continued to gape for another moment. Finally his senses returned to him enough so that he could make a shaky retreat into the kitchen. He was going to have a heart attack soon. Not even the head in the refrigerator was enough to faze him from his thoughts as he made a cup of tea. He tried to remind himself that- 

John Watson had seen plenty of naked men in the army and Sherlock Holmes was just like any other...almost.

The fourth time John saw Sherlock naked he wasn’t even awake. He had been walking through a garden and all the statues were of Sherlock naked. He had once thought, in the right light, Sherlock looked as if his skin had been chiseled out of marble. Now there were life size statues all around him that only confirmed that fact.  

There was one on the lawn and John approached it slowly. It wasn’t like the others, which were all on pedestals. John felt an irresistible pull towards it. He brought his fingers up and debated whether he was really going to cradle the face of a statue.  

It was a short struggle and John let his hand touch the cold marble. He didn’t like the way the eyes were hallow and normal spark of life was missing from them. No matter how cold or uncaring Sherlock acted, John knew there was still a heart beating in his chest.  

John worried at his lower lip as he contemplated what he was going to do next. The sun shone warmly on his skin and the birds chirped softly in the distance. It was one of the most pleasant dreams John had ever had and he wanted to make it the best- so he took his other hand to cup the other side of the Sherlock statue’s face and brought his warm lips to the cold ones.  

Just as John had suspected it felt like he was kissing a rock. But what he hadn’t expected was for the lips to turn softer and warmer until a pair of arms wrapped around him and held him tight. John closed his eyes tighter and prayed that he won’t wake up. 

When had he begun to wish for this? Or more importantly, was there ever _really_ a time when he hadn’t? There was no point in denying it now, especially in his dreams. John let his hands trail up and down Sherlock’s back. It was turning to flesh right under his fingertips.  

Sherlock’s tongue pressed against John’s lips and he found himself opening up willingly. John tilted his head to give Sherlock better access to him. John’s hands began to linger down even farther and John felt a surge rock through him when he squeezed one of Sherlock’s perfect ass checks.  

Even more rewarding was the feel of Sherlock’s hard length against his belly. John could feel his own trousers growing tighter. Just a few caresses were enough to drive John crazy with want. Like a teenager, John felt like he could go off at any second and even the thought of soiling his pants and trousers weren’t enough to stop him.  

Bodies were rubbing against each other and John rutted against Sherlock’s thigh. Even though he had turned to flesh, Sherlock’s thigh was still softness encompassing hard muscle. John groaned loudly as Sherlock held onto him as he rubbed faster against him.  

John Watson orgasmed with the name of Sherlock on his lips.   

The fifth time John saw Sherlock naked the mad genius was asleep on the couch. Well, Sherlock had actually walked out of his room with a sheet wrapped around him but it had fallen open during while he had been asleep.  

After the weird dream with the naked statue in the garden, John found himself nearly salivating at the thought of touching mouth to flesh. How would the real Sherlock Holmes taste? That dream had reduced him to his most basic desires and there was no bringing John back until his curiosity had been quenched.  

But he couldn’t do anything unforward towards Sherlock when he was asleep no matter how tempting it was. So John found himself sitting in his chair and staring at Sherlock’s naked form. He wanted to memorize every curve, every line and every freckle on his whole body. Sure, he would probably see Sherlock naked again but when would he be able to stare with all his hunger and desires open on his face?  

That was if Sherlock didn’t already know. How could he not? And yet that didn’t stop him from walking around the flat naked. It was starting to drive John mad. He tortured himself with circles of logic. As if he could ask Sherlock...John doubted he would even give him a straight answer anyway.  

John shook his head and sighed. He stood up and covered Sherlock back up with the white sheet. After one more wistful look, John walked over to his computer and started to update his blog. Still he couldn’t help stopping every once in awhile to admire Sherlock’s silent figure.   

John Watson was in too deep to turn back now.  

“John! How many times do I have to-” Sherlock stood in dead silence when he caught sight of John. A very naked John. Sherlock had used the last towel and so out of frustration, John had just left the bathroom after patting himself off with a washcloth.  

Sherlock had nearly smacked into John, who was walking towards the staircase up to his room. John found that he didn’t care in the least being discovered naked by Sherlock. _Here take a gander. Hope you know how it feels, jackass._  

Except Sherlock just continued to _stare._ It was like he was in a trance and his entire body tensed up- like a cat ready to pounce. John was just about to apologize (maybe he really had done some serious damage!) except he noticed the way Sherlock’s breathing had gotten shallow and the way his eyes lingered down to his cock.  

Much the way John had done when he had caught Sherlock naked. That same hungry look in his eyes. It was bare and plain for John to see. John could feel his skin beginning to goose bump and he shivered (mostly) from the cold. That seemed to wake Sherlock from his trance and he averted his eyes. 

But Sherlock made no move to leave. John stood frozen at the bottom of the staircase. There were two options...which one would he regret more? John nibbled at the inside of his mouth before taking a step towards Sherlock.  

Instead of moving away in repulsion, Sherlock’s body leaned forward. He brought his eyes back up and for once Sherlock looked like he didn’t know the answer to the puzzle before him.  

But it wasn’t the decision for him alone to make. Sherlock narrowed his eyes, and John could almost see his brain working through all the clues presented before him. Like he was approaching a skittish animal, Sherlock took a step closer to John...and then another and another. They locked gazes and Sherlock searched John’s features- looking for any signs of refusal.  

John tried to make his body language as welcoming as possible. He moved his arms just minutely so that his body was more inviting. Sherlock kept his arms to his sides as he leaned forward to kiss John. It was a tentative, questioning kiss. 

John closed his eyes and let one hand come up and grip Sherlock’s wrist. Sherlock hummed softly and his hand came up to grip John’s forearm. When flesh met flesh, it reminded John how naked he was. It made him hesitate- this wasn’t exactly how he had imagined their first kiss. _Because it’s time for me to admit to myself that I really have been wanting to kiss him. So badly._  

Sherlock’s tongue grew urgent and started to press harder against John’s lips. He didn’t give it a second thought as he opened up to Sherlock’s assault. John’s hand snaked up further and gripped Sherlock’s shoulder to work its way up to brush against the soft hairs at the base of the taller man’s neck.  

That was all it took. The floodgates opened and Sherlock wrapped his arms around John so tightly it became hard to breath. It was like Sherlock was trying to suck his very life force from him. Sherlock’s mouth tasted like the tea John had made for him earlier. The flavour mingled with John’s toothpaste.  

Sherlock’s hands burned against John’s skin. Searing across his soul.  

Then he was being pushed down, nearly thrown on the stairs and Sherlock was crowding into his space all at once.  

“Sherlock-” John’s question turned into a surprised groan as Sherlock slipped down and took John’s half-hard cock into his mouth. John’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets and the surge of sensation.  

“Fuck.” John knew it was inelegant but he had no other word to describe what was happening.  

Sherlock held nothing back and John was treated to the sounds of slurping and smacking. Occasionally, Sherlock moaned deep in his throat and John could feel it vibrating around his cock. It was filth and John was loving every second of it.  

The things Sherlock was doing with his tongue were magical. Every stroke, every lick seemed to set John’s entire body on fire. His back and ass still stung from being thrown down on the stairs but he found that it wasn’t enough to distract him from the lust fogging his brain.  

John dug his heels into the floor and pulled on Sherlock’s curls as he came. It was a violent orgasm and made John’s entire body convulse. Sherlock didn’t push away as John emptied himself between his parted lips and into his eager mouth. After the last shoot of pleasure had rocked through John’s body, Sherlock finally pulled away to press a soft kiss to John’s lower belly.  

“Well, fuck me.” John’s words were thick and he sounded like he was drugged. He certainly felt high enough.  

“If that’s what you would like.”  

John Watson found that he liked that proposal very much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please share any AU thoughts with me. Also! I will be getting to some of the other ideas soon too.


	23. Control Military AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone prompted me for this! Who are you?? I can't find the prompt...tell me please!
> 
> Spanking Military and Top!John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this may be one of the filthiest things I have written to date.

“Private, we both know why you’re here.”

Maybe he was doing it because he knew Sherlock hated it when he stated the obvious. Or maybe it was because he was actually furious at the pompous git for once. How dare he risk the lives of the other people in his unit over an experiment. Where exactly did Sherlock fucking Holmes get off thinking his bloody experiment was worth more than their safety?

Thankfully, for once, Sherlock knew better than to answer. He just stood stock still in John’s office, eyes vacant, back rigid. Even if Sherlock had realized the error of his ways, Captain John H. Watson was going to make sure that it never happened again. Ever.

“I believe that I have discussed with you what would happen if you went against my explicit orders again, didn’t I?” John’s hands were behind his back, perfect military posture. His eyes narrowed as he waited for a reply.

“Yes, sir.” Sherlock’s words were short and clipped.

_Ah, so this is how he’s going to play it, is he? Well, two can play at that game and I play to win. You said you never beg, but I’ll show you what it’s like to have a broken will. You’ll regret crossing me._

“Hands on my desk.” John waved at the side of his mahogany writing desk. “Legs spread wide.” He had to fight the urge not to lick his lips. This was going to be most rewarding.

“Yes, sir.” Sherlock was bent over the desk in one fluid motion, his legs opened.

John took a moment to admire the view. He really was stunningly gorgeous, it was almost a crime. John strode over and reached around to plant one hand on the front of Sherlock’s trousers. Bringing his mouth to Sherlock’s ear he whispered, “If you make so much as a peep you’ll regret it.”

Sherlock nodded. John smiled to himself as he let his hands brush over Sherlock’s crotch before unzipping his trousers. John’s hand only lingered for a moment before he brought his hands around to pull down Sherlock’s trousers and pants. It was just enough to expose Sherlock’s luscious ass.

John’s fingers glide along his skin and he felt Sherlock shiver. Just you wait.

There was nothing light or forgiving in Captain John Watson’s hand. With an open palm he slapped Sherlock’s right ass cheek again and again. It turned red under his touch and John could see that some blood vessels had broke.

Sherlock stayed silent and only once did he hiss as John’s hand connected with his now bright crimson back side. John knew it couldn’t be all that bad as his hand slipped down to easily find the erection hanging between Sherlock’s spread legs.

John stopped for a moment to give Sherlock’s cock a quick pull. “And what is this, private?”

Sherlock stayed stock still and didn’t mummer a word. John smiled to himself. He gave Sherlock’s erection another firm tug. “You have permission to speak.”

Sherlock let out a long breath. When he spoke, his voice was thick and the sound of it went straight to John’s half-hard cock. “I apologize, sir.”

John’s voice was hard as he replied, “That’s not what I asked you. Is it?” He punctuated the question was a hard slap to Sherlock’s left ass cheek.

Sherlock let out a soft cry.

“I’m aroused by you...Captain.” Sherlock opened his legs just a little bit more in invitation.

John licked his lips and took a moment to soak in the glorious view laid out for him only. “Is that so? This turn you on?”

John didn’t give Sherlock a chance to answer as he smacked Sherlock’s tender ass. Sherlock moaned and his body arched up at the touch. “I believe I asked you a question.”

“Yes, sir.” Sherlock whined. “Please.”

“Please? Who gave you permission to be so insubordinate?” John ran the tips of his fingers down Sherlock’s back along his spine. Even though it was still through the material of his shirt, John felt like he could feel every curve of Sherlock’s toned body. There wasn’t a trace of fat and only raw power and grace made up the body of Sherlock Holmes.

“I believe my original punishment isn’t going to be enough.” John’s fingers traced lightly along the rim of Sherlock’s bunched up shirt. A shiver ran through Sherlock’s body and the feeling of it ran up John’s finger straight to his cock.

“Take off your clothes. All of them.” John stood back and watched as Sherlock complied. He kept his eyes lowered as he wordless got undressed. After folding up his clothes and placing them on the floor, he went back to his original position. John smiled at that.  _I knew he was a fast learner_.

“Let this be a lesson to you.” John reached into his pocket and pulled out the small tube of lube. He placed it in the small of Sherlock’s back. “If that falls, you’ll regret it, private.”

John rubbed himself over his trousers before unbuttoning them. His cock was already straining against his pants and it felt fantastic to finally pull it out of the small confines of his clothes.

John’s strokes where slow as he touched himself. Sherlock’s entire body was perfectly still and John congratulated himself on the fact that he could get such a creature to obey his every command. Even though he was ranked over Sherlock, John wasn’t fool enough to believe that Sherlock didn’t obey unless he wanted too. John plucked the small tube for Sherlock’s back and popped it open.

The liquid was cool and smelled faintly of strawberries as John let it cover his fingers and some of his left palm. His other hand came to rest on Sherlock’s back. Sherlock’s skin was slightly sweaty and John could smell sex all over him. It was a delicious scent.

Throwing the tube behind him, John took his slick hand and traced it down Sherlock’s crack. His other hand pressed down hard so that Sherlock’s back arched up. After rubbing his fingers tantalizing close to Sherlock’s balls, John stuck one finger inside the other man.

Sherlock moaned as John pushed deeper inside him. Only John’s breathing accompanied the small needy noises Sherlock was making. While John should probably tell him to be quiet, John was selfish and wanted to horde all the sounds Sherlock was making for himself.

The bigger man’s body was more than pliant enough and soon another finger joined the first one. John spread his legs to keep his balance as he started to thrust his fingers faster inside Sherlock.

Sherlock had arched himself as far as he could go until his cheek was flush on John’s desk. His arms were stretched out but they still managed to avoid any of the paperwork on it and he presented a lovely picture for John. Sherlock’s entire body was flushed a lovely pink and it was a sharp contrast to how red his ass was- John flattened his palm and lightly hit Sherlock’s left side.

There was a gasp as palm hit sensitive flesh. Two fingers became three and Sherlock opened up wider around John’s insistent fingers. He thrust deep inside Sherlock and barely teased his prostate as he moved faster and faster. Still it was methodical and meant to break Sherlock in the sweetest of ways.

Sherlock’s breathing hitched when John pressed his fingers for just a tantalizing moment against his prostate. The way Sherlock’s body twisted and wiggled was a thing of beauty. To know that Sherlock would only surrender that power to someone he wanted to was even more intoxicating.

John wasn’t fool enough to think that Sherlock wasn’t controlling him too through their exchange. They both got what they wanted and that worked perfectly fine for him...it was all fine.

John took out his fingers all at once. There was a sucking, slipping noise as they came out of Sherlock’s body. John took both his hands to pull Sherlock’s ass cheeks apart to rub his cock between them. Sherlock’s hole was inviting but the slick heat around it was just as tantalizing.

Sherlock mewled as John rutted against him. He pulled Sherlock apart as far as he would go- imprinting his fingertips over the nasty red marks his palm had made. Bruises covering each other, mapping out the history of the last hour. Marking Sherlock as his.

“Now I’m going to show you what submission is.” John growled as he thrust himself into Sherlock’s waiting heat. Sherlock’s legs bucked up, with an accompanying gasp, as he took all of John at one time. There was no time to adjust as John started to pound into Sherlock was all the force in his thighs.

He was a solider, a captain, and he used all the power in his lower body to remind Sherlock of just that fact. That when Sherlock struggled to run the five miles required each day that it was because Captain John Watson had broken him apart.

Sherlock sobbed as John slowed his pace so that he could watch his entire length glide in and out. Whether John was in a rush or not didn’t matter. He needed to make sure that Sherlock would soon not forget who was in charge- who he answered too.

“Please...Captain. Oh God, please.” Sherlock’s voice was slightly muffled as his face was flush with John’s desk. There was only the echo of desperation in it that John wanted to hear so he ignored the plea. Pulling back until only the tip of him was inside, John brought his hand around to play with the slit at the head of Sherlock’s cock.

It was slick with pre-come and John twisted his fingers so that he could take all of it. Instead of using it to rub down Sherlock’s throbbing length, he chose to wipe it on the lush red ass before him. The trail of come glistened in the yellow light from the overhead florescence lights. John took one finger and tasted the bitter liquid on his tongue.

John’s fingers dug into Sherlock’s flesh as he thrust in as deeply as he could. And then again and again- his hips rocking back and forth until his calves almost cramped with the force of it.

Sherlock was a mess of whining and sobbing as John continued to pound into him. John could hear as Sherlock’s cock thumped up against his chest with every hard thrust. The violent rhythm was reaching its cusp and John’s stomach felt like it was being ripped out through his bellybutton as his orgasm overtook him.

It made his toes curl and his entire body stiffened as he started to come. Sensing the change, Sherlock let out a small cry as John came inside him. John could feel a shiver running up his spine and when he had control of his body again he reached around to grab Sherlock’s waiting cock.

It was harder than steel and John knew the pain of it would have been torture. Still it did not mean he was gentle as he started to jerk Sherlock off. The bigger man came with only a few strong strokes- he was right at the edge before John had even touched him.

Sherlock’s body was gorgeous as he arched as he came all over John’s hand. His body tensed and John could feel it all against his hand. Sherlock had potential and John was going to make sure that he was the only one who saw it. _Oh, the plans I have for you Sherlock._


	24. Those Locks Barber Hair Kink AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fantasy John with a hair kink for Sherlock's lovely curls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was getting my haircut. In Japan, they take a loooooong time at my barber shop shampooing my hair. Naturally, during this, I had to come up with an AU PWP idea. 
> 
> Also! In America, we have the license of each barber on display at the station that they cut your hair at. I have no idea how it is done in England, so I just used the American version. This is about the smut anyways, so who cares? :D

John’s fingers itched when he caught sight of the gorgeous man who had just walked into the barber shop. The tall man’s head was covered with light midnight dark curls that just begged to be touched, pulled and his fingers to glide through them. _I have to be the one to cut that. I have too._

Trying not to move too fast, John made his way over to the front door. Plastering the friendliest (non-creepy) smile he could, John happily declared. “Hello. May I help you?”

The man’s mouth turned down and he eyed John was weary detachment. “I just walked into a barber shop. Is it not obvious what I require, or do I need to spell it out for you?”

John stopped mid-stride, feeling like cold water had just been dumped over him. Now that he wasn’t distracted with the tight curls, he saw that the owner’s face was just as breathtaking but held a deep disgust with the world- and especially the man before him. Unable to argue back with a potential customer, John clenched jaw and took a deep breath through his nose. He let out a laugh but it was hallow. “I suppose you’re right. Now, what kind of haircut would you like?"

For a horrible moment, John feared the man would ask to have his curls shaved off. John won’t be able to do it though. It would be like committing a form of heresy to destroy such perfect hair. “All I require is a trim. Can you manage that?” The man’s voice was full of contempt and it made John ball one of his hands at his side.

Noticing this, the taller man smirked. John had the faintest desire to punch him in the face.

John nodded and raised his hand to direct the bloody git to where he could wash his hair. As the man sat down, John silently grumbled to himself about what he had done to deserve this. That all melted away when John’s fingers first touched the locks he had been admiring before their owner had opened his smart (beautifully shaped) mouth.

Just as John had suspected, the hair was thick and rich. John lathered his hands up with shampoo and began to run them through the man’s wet hair. A shiver ran though John as his fingers dragged though the raven hair. John had to fight the urge to tug at the hairs, to see how sensitive-

“Hey! Be more careful.” John blinked. His eyes refocused and he looked down at the man’s face. It was twisted in irritation and something else. That ‘something else’ made John’s cock twitch in interest.

“Sorry.” John licked his lips before asking, “Do you have sensitive follicles?” The man’s mouth pulled into a tight pout- it made his mouth look even more like a cupid’s bow. “Well, I imagine anyone would when their hair is being pulled out.”

John looked away so that he could roll his eyes. _Now he’s a drama queen. Somehow I’m not surprised._

“Iran or Afghanistan?”

John’s head jerked back to hard to the man’s face he almost heard it crack. “How the hell did you know that?”

“Finish washing my hair and I will tell you.” The man closed his eyes and his face relaxed slightly. “This angle hurts my neck.”

“Yeah..okay, Mr-?” John knew he was fishing for a name but he couldn’t help himself. He was sick of referring to the man as ‘dark stranger’ and ‘unknown man’ in his mind.

“Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock.” He made no move to ask John his name.

“I’m John Watson.” John offered slightly uncertain.

“I know that, John. I saw your barber license on the mirror at your station. Now, can we go back to the task at hand?” Sherlock snapped but there was a lining of playfulness under the sarcasm.

John sighed dramatically. “Okay, right.”

Still that didn’t stop John from flushing when what Sherlock had just admitted to started to really sink in. _He has sensitive hair. His scalp, these curls. I wonder if I could-_

He could have Sherlock on his knees.

On his knees between John’s legs as he sucked his cock. John’s hands twisted, curled, pulled and Sherlock moaned at even the most gentlest of touchs. John massaged Sherlock’s scalp and ran his fingers along the spot behind his ears. John could feel the groans vibrating along his cock as Sherlock made all sorts of needy noises. Sherlock hadn’t lied when he had admitted to having sensitive follicles.

John was gentle but persistent as he pushed Sherlock’s mouth back and forth along his cock. Spreading his legs open a bit more, John marveled at the fact that Sherlock could swallow all of him, down to his base and not gag. A chuckle spilled from his lips as he pondered the sharp contrasts of the man on his knees. John pulled the top curls on Sherlock’s head lightly- tugging at the edges. They were like black ink stains twisting around his fingers. There wasn’t a split hair and there seemed to be endless amounts of bouncy locks.

The back of Sherlock’s hot mouth dragged along the top of John’s length and he moaned as his thighs bucked up. Gone was the need to take it slow and John loosened his grip on Sherlock’s curls so he really won’t tear out any hairs. Instead, he dragged his fingers through the black silk again and again with his left hand as his other hand wrapped around the nape of Sherlock's neck.

Everything was a blur as Sherlock hallowed out his cheeks and his tongue tried to roll around John’s length. With a cry, John came in Sherlock’s mouth. Even though John’s hands had stilled, Sherlock didn’t release John until he had sucked out every drop of what John could offer. John hummed in contentment.

“I think my hair is properly washed now, John.”

“Jesus!” John jolted as the deep voice cut through his fantasy.

Coming back to reality, John stared down at Sherlock in horror. “I’m so sorry. I-” _What can I say? I was just fantasizing about you giving me a spectacular blow job. Hope you don’t mind._

Sherlock’s eyebrows knitted together and his eyes roamed all over John’s face. Then as if the clouds had parted, a smile brought Sherlock’s cupid lips up into a predatory smile. “When does your shift end?”

“In an hour.” John bit at his lower lip, his hands still intertwined in Sherlock’s now overly shampooed hair.

“How do you feel about Italian?”

“That sounds lovely.” John fought the urge to fist pump the air. Maybe his fantasy won’t have to stay just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slightly cracky and I love that.


End file.
